


Going Home

by CoppersMama



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, Eventual Romance, F/M, Gen, Hermione has some stuff to work through, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Memory Tampering, Mentions of Abortion, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, OC is based on my niece at the time, Panic Attacks, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Samantha is precious, Slow Burn, Trauma, Wandless Magic, adorable child incoming, life at hogwarts, medding, nosy Snape, the assault was in the past
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:07:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 92,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28952415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoppersMama/pseuds/CoppersMama
Summary: Hermione returns to Hogwarts to teach Muggle Studies, but she isn't alone. Her 3-year old daughter has come with her. Snape is a retired spy with far too much time on his hands. Snape works to unlock the secrets of Hermione's past while she tries desperately to keep them locked away. Romance happens when they're least expecting it.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Severus Snape, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 562
Kudos: 493





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I originally published this story on another platform in 2009 and finished it in 2011. I’ve been going through my old fics and editing them to publish here, in the hopes that I’ll get back into the groove of writing. 
> 
> I was 19 when I started writing this, and I’m 31 now. Hermione/Snape is still the pairing I go back to for comfort reading. For those familiar with this story, the editing won’t change the plot or the bulk of the content, just tightening it up and flushing it out a bit. 
> 
> I originally got the idea for this story from reading another fic by "fervesco". I wish I could remember the title! 
> 
> So … background: Hermione comes back to Hogwarts to take over Muggle Studies. She's been out of school 4 years and has a 3-year old daughter. For the purposes of the Final Battle and all, in this story, they were able to do a "crash course" for the classes they'd missed their last year, and take the final exams on time.
> 
> This is obviously going to be AU, since Snape is alive, but I'm not bringing back Dumbledore. I like McGonagall better. Any other characters who might show up that were supposed to be dead … well, I just really liked them and wanted them alive, apparently. 
> 
> Mind the tags, please. There will be eventual reference to and description of past trauma. When I originally posted this story, I didn’t want to “spoil” the sexal assault aspect. I mentioned I was 19, right? Anyway, this story will reference past sexual assault, and that incident will be a major plot point. 
> 
> Please share your thoughts in the comments after.  
> ...  
> Timeline:
> 
> Birthday: September 19, 1979  
> Hermione graduates June 20, 1998  
> On the night of her 19th birthday (September 19, 1998) Hermione gets pregnant. This is 3 months after graduation.  
> January 23rd, 1999, Harry and Ginny get married at the burrow.  
> Hermione gives birth on June 13th, 1999 to Samantha Ginevra Molly Granger.  
> August 1st, 2002, receives first letter from Headmistress McGonagall to take over the Muggle Studies job.  
> August 20th 2002, arrives at Hogwarts to begin preparations for the school year.

"Are you almost ready Sweetie?" the woman asked her daughter, helping her zip up her coat.

"Yes, Mummy," the little girl answered, picking up her favorite toy and smiling at her mother. “All set!” 

Hermione smiled, shrinking their luggage and sticking it in her pocket. "Alright then, Sweetie, hold onto my hand."

Holding the small girl's hand tightly in hers, Hermione spared one brief look for the cozy apartment they were leaving behind, before throwing a generous amount of Floo Powder into the fire. She stepped into the green flames with her daughter.

"Hogwarts, Hermione Granger's rooms," Hermione directed with closed eyes, and when she opened them again they were in a new room.

Stepping out and brushing the soot off her daughter, Hermione looked around their new home, resisting the urge to whistle at the excitement.  _ Oh, hell, it is my rooms after all! _ So, she whistled her appreciation.

Their last apartment had been tiny. It was a fact that Hermione had come to terms with; being poor meant living in a poor neighborhood. Being a single mum at 23 was never her plan, but life seldom goes to plan. Looking around their new home, Hermione forgot all that, and was simply in awe. She wondered how, for the life of her, she'd never seen the staff living quarters at Hogwarts before. They were incredible, if her rooms were anything to go by - the sitting room alone was bigger than the entirety of their last two apartments. 

She remembered her last day at Hogwarts, the Convocation Ceremony, the indoor Fireworks courtesy of Fred and George's merchandise, the laughter and the tears, the farewell's with promises to write every day. Harry had gone to live with Sirius at Grimmauld Place, and he and Ginny had gotten engaged less than 6 months later (Which reminded Hermione that she should hurry up and get her new place set up so Ginny could bring Crookshanks back. He hated moving, so Harry and Ginny were "cat-sitting" until the new place was set up). The wedding had been beautiful, and Hermione had barely squeezed into her bridesmaid dress – being 4 months pregnant didn't help – but she'd managed it, and had even managed to have a fairly enjoyable evening.

When she'd told her friends she was pregnant, they all tried to be supportive, Ron had even offered to marry her when they’d learned of the circumstances under which she'd become pregnant, but she'd insisted she would be fine on her own.

Even now she was wondering if they didn't have something to do with her new job at Hogwarts.

She'd been shocked when she'd received an owl from Minerva McGonagall asking her if she would be interested in teaching Muggle Studies, as the new teacher they'd hired after the war evidently "couldn't hack it", and had to be replaced. She had replied immediately that she would love the opportunity, but her living situation was a bit awkward now that she had a child.

The Headmistress had tactfully inquired as to why the child couldn't stay home with her father, leaving Hermione to fill her in on her "situation", and why she couldn't take a job away from her daughter.

The other woman assured her that there was no reason why the girl couldn't stay with her mother at Hogwarts, so long as she was properly supervised. Harry and Ginny, Molly and Arthur, even Fred and George had assured her they would help whenever she needed, and in the end Hermione had agreed to receiving help from the house elves whenever a sitter couldn't be found. Paid help - she insisted. 

So, here she was, in a school she hadn't stepped foot in for 4 years, and it still felt huge to her.

Hermione checked her watch. Molly would be arriving in a few minutes to watch Samantha so she could meet with the Headmistress, so she helped her daughter out of her traveling clothes and let her go explore the space, intent on getting their basic furniture set up before she left.

The rooms felt as though they'd been made for them, as Hermione found a large master bedroom with a smaller bedroom right beside it, with enough room for all of their things and then some, and close enough that Samantha wouldn't get scared at night.

She set up hers and her daughter's beds, and was just finishing unpacking the decorations for Samantha's room when she heard the fireplace activate, announcing Molly’s arrival.

"Hermione dear?" she heard the older woman call, and she stepped out of Samantha's room and made her way into the living room.

"Hello, Molly," Hermione said, and the other woman hugged her in greeting. "Good to see you. Thanks for coming on such short notice."

Molly waved her off. "Nonsense! Happy to do it! I've been itching to take care of youngin's again. Now that Ginny's pregnant I can hardly wait!"

"I bet," Hermione agreed. Spotting her daughter playing with her favorite stuffed animal, she called her over. "Sammy, come say hello to your Auntie Molly."

The little girl picked up her toy and walked over, hugging Mrs. Weasley's leg. "Hello Auntie Molly. Missed you!" she said.

"Oh my, she's gotten so much bigger since her birthday party!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, picking the child up to give her a proper hug.

"Let's just hope she grows up to be taller than her mum," Hermione commented, though she secretly wished she took after her completely.

Samantha was the proper size for her age; a good 40 inches tall, with long brown hair, bushy just like her mother's. Her eyes were a deep brown, and she had a light smattering of freckles across her nose and down her arms. Hermione hoped she'd grow out of them as she got older, as Hermione herself didn't have a freckle on her. A few birthmarks, but no freckles.

"You'd better get going, yeah? Don't want to be late meeting the Headmistress," Molly reminded her, snapping Hermione out of her daze.

"Of course," she replied. Crouching down to her daughter's height, she said, "Mummy has to go for a while, but Auntie Molly is going to stay with you. I'll see you when I get back, okay?"

Samantha nodded, giving her mother a quick hug and a kiss on the nose.

Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Sweetie."

"You're welcome, Mummy. Bye-bye," she said, walking away to play with her toy again.

The two women shared a look of adoration after the little girl, and then Hermione left to meet Minerva.

…

"So, everything's in order, then," Minerva McGonagall finished, sending the last of the paperwork into a file cabinet with a flick of her wand.

"Great," Hermione said. "I can't wait to start."

Minerva nodded, standing up. "And I can't wait to meet this charming daughter of yours."

Hermione smiled. "Do you have time now?"

"Of course," her old professor agreed, and they made their way back to Hermione's rooms.

Hermione was expecting to run into more of her old teachers, but the only person she saw on her way back to her rooms was Nearly-Headless Nick. He patted her shoulder in welcome, and she instantly felt the cold seep into her arm, but smiled anyway.

"Great to see you, Nick. I suspect I’ll be seeing a lot more of you now," she said, chatting briefly with him about becoming the new Muggle Studies Professor.

They said their goodbyes and made the rest of the trip uninterrupted.

Hermione was almost amazed at how easy-going Minerva McGonagall was once you got to know her. When she'd first met her, she'd seemed very intimidating, even to a dedicated student like her. The war had hardened her, as well as her worry for those around her, but she'd never seemed as approachable as she did now.

Now that the war was over and all she had to worry about was running a school for witchcraft and wizardry, she seemed much more at ease. That didn't mean that she "let her hair down", of course. She just seemed much more cheerful.  _ Or maybe that's just because she's cooing over an adorable 3-year old. _

Samantha loved Professor McGonagall, though she couldn't quite pronounce her name, so she called her Miss Minnie. All the women in the room found it adorable, though she knew she’d spend some time practicing the staff’s names with her young daughter. She was an incredibly bright girl.

Molly had unpacked the kitchen while she'd been watching Samantha, and the four of them had a "tea-party" while they caught up, and Samantha got to know their new home.

Hermione kept them talking about their news and Ginny's pregnancy to keep the questions off her and her life, and managed to stall them until it was time for Samantha's supper. She bade farewell to the women as Molly left through the fireplace and Minerva made her promise to come see her if she had any questions or concerns.

After dinner Samantha asked if they could go for a walk. The weather was cool in the evening, so she bundled them into their travel jackets and they made their way out to the lake.

The pair walked by the edge of the lake for a while, and were about to head back in when they heard a dog barking and coming closer to them.

Samantha had never seen such a big dog as Fang, and she shrieked, jumping into her mother's arms. Hermione soothed her, petting Fang with her free hand as he stopped in front of them.

"What're yeh barkin' at there Fang?" she heard Hagrid call, and smiled.

"Hello, Hagrid. It's just me, Hermione," she said, and made her way over to him.

"Blimey, no one told me yeh were comin'!" He said, and moved to give her a crushing hug, but then noticed the child in her arms. "And this is young Miss Samantha?"

Hermione nodded, knowing Harry had told Hagrid about her. "Fang gave her a bit of a startle."

"Oh, sorry 'bout that. He didn't mean no harm," Hagrid said.

"I know, it's okay," Hermione insisted. "Sammy, look who's here? You remember Mummy told you about your Uncle Hagrid? Have a look."

Hagrid's eyes brimmed with tears at being called "Uncle", and Samantha slowly uncovered her face to look at him.

Hermione set her down, and watched Samantha's eyes get huge.

"Wow, you're so big, Uncle Hag-er-rid!"

Hermione chuckled, and they were ushered into Hagrid's hut for some tea. He offered them some rock cakes, but Hermione declined … they had just finished supper, after all.

Samantha had gotten used to Fang, and was now happily scratching his head while Hagrid told her about the first time her mummy and her friends went into the Forbidden Forest.

Hermione excused herself from the trip down memory lane, and went outside for some fresh air. She looked over at the pumpkin patch as she walked a couple feet from his hut, and smiled, remembering the night she and Harry had liberated Buckbeak and Sirius.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't notice someone else walking up to her.

"I was told Minerva had hired a new staff member, but I was expecting someone old enough to not be confused with a student," came the thick drawl from behind her.

Hermione sighed, turning to face her old Potions professor.

"Nice to see you too, Professor Snape," Hermione greeted. She felt a sudden knot of anxiety in her stomach, but couldn't explain why. "What brings you here?"

"Aside from the fact that I live here?" he wondered, crossing his arms over his chest.

She rolled her eyes, mimicking his movements.

"I meant at Hagrid's cabin," she explained slowly, patronizingly.

"The Headmistress asked me to summon Hagrid to the castle, not that I have to explain myself to you, Miss Granger," he informed her, then moved to step around her to go into Hagrid's cabin.

Hermione found herself blocking his path, then hurriedly said, "It's okay, I can tell him."

Snape eyed her suspiciously, figuring out too quickly that she didn't want him to go into the hut.

"I’m not in the habit of delegating my responsibilities to new hires, regardless of how much our beloved Headmistresses hero-worships them," Snape insisted, his voice dripping with disdain.

Hermione found herself wondering what she ever did to make the Potions Master hate her so much, for as rude as he was, he never spoke to any other students with that much animosity.  _ Perhaps Neville,  _ she thought ruefully.

"I am fully capable of passing on a message, you can even wait out here while I do it," she offered, still unsure of why she didn't want him going in.

Catching on to her unease, he set her with his penetrating gaze. "Miss Granger, is there some particular reason you do not wish for me to enter the gamekeeper's hut?"

Hermione was “saved” from answering by the door to said hut swinging open..

"Mummy, Uncle Hagrid wants us to have tea with him tomorrow!" Samantha stated happily, and Hermione closed her eyes with a sigh.

She turned away from Snape, walking over to her daughter. "Sure, Sweetie. Say goodbye to Uncle Hagrid, we're gonna head back now."

Her daughter nodded, closing the door again while she went and said her goodbyes.

She took another breath before turning around to face Snape. His normally calm and collected face was covered in shock, or something like it. His eyes were wide, his eyebrows inclined, his mouth parted slightly, and if she didn't know any better, she'd say he even looked a bit paler.

Hermione waited for him to speak, but he never did, so she just waited for Samantha to come back out again.

When the door opened next, Samantha was sitting on Fang's back as he all-but trotted them out the door.

"Mummy, look at me!" Samantha giggled, holding onto Fang's collar as though her life depended on it, but clearly enjoying herself.

"Careful, Sammy," Hermione said, her maternal instincts kicking in and hurrying beside her daughter. She held her hands out, and with a pout Samantha reluctantly let go of Fang's collar and allowed her mother to pick her up, then latched onto her hip.

Hermione looked at the still speechless Snape and then with a slight smirk said to Hagrid, "Minerva wants to see you up at the castle, Hagrid. Thanks for the tea, we'll see you tomorrow."

Hagrid nodded, patting Hermione on the shoulder a little too forcefully before making his way up to the castle to see the Headmistress.

Hermione closed Hagrid's forgotten door, then turned to head back to the castle.

"Mummy, who's that?" Samantha asked, and Hermione stopped with another heavy sigh.

"This is Mummy's old teacher, Professor Snape," she explained.

"Your name is Perfesser?" Samantha asked him while crinkling her nose, and Hermione chuckled, letting Samantha slide off her hip and set her down on the ground.

Snape seemed to snap out of his trance, and looked down at the small child.

"No, that is my title. My name is … Severus," he answered, wondering why he didn't just insist he call her Mister Snape.

"Hello, Sev-er-us. My name is Samantha," she told him, holding her arm out for him to shake.

Snape flicked his eyes to Hermione's, almost seeming to ask permission, and when she shrugged, he reached down and grasped the tiny hand in his calloused, much bigger one.

He held back a chuckle as she gave him her best firm shake, then let go of her hand.

"You used to teach my Mummy?" Samantha asked him.

_ Mummy? She's only been out of school 4 years. How old is this girl? I didn't see a wedding ring on Granger's finger. Perhaps she is divorced or widowed. She certainly doesn't look old enough to have a daughter, though she certainly has matured since she was last here … get a grip, old man! Oh, jeeze, the small one asked you a question! _

"Yes, for some time I was one of your mother's teachers," he answered smoothly, nothing in his voice to betray his thoughts. He regarded Hermione for a second before fixing his gaze on Samantha again. "And how old are you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at his lack of subtlety. It wouldn't be very Slytherin to just come out and ask her when she got pregnant.

"I just turned 3 in June!" Samantha answered, excited at the memory of her birthday. "I had a great party! There were balloons and cake and presents and Mummy said next year I can get my own cat like she has Crooks!"

Snape fought very hard to hold back a sneer as he said, "How lovely."

_ That reminds me, I should make sure Crookshanks is doing okay with Harry and Ginny. I do hope Sirius isn't terrorizing him too fiercely. _

"Well, it's been swell catching up and all, but -"

Severus cut her off, directing his next question at Samantha once again.

"So, you and your mother are living at the castle now?"

"Uh huh, I like it here! Uncle Fred said there's a huge squid in the lake, and if you're really quiet you can see it, and the stairs move, and the ceiling changes!"

"Indeed," Severus agreed. "So, I take it your father will be joining you here as well?"

Hermione was practically growling at him, but he took no notice, and she didn't want to make a scene in front of her daughter. At least, not while Snape was being "nice" to her.

"No, silly, I don't have a daddy," Samantha explained.

_ Odd, but at least it's not that Weasley prat. Merlin knows she could do better. _

Hermione opened her mouth once more to end the conversation, but once again, Snape beat her to it.

"How come?" he inquired, his eyes lingering momentarily on Hermione's reddening face.

Samantha shrugged. "Auntie Molly says it's 'cause I got such a great Mummy, I didn't need a Daddy. So I got lots of Uncles instead," she explained. With a shy smile, she added, "My favorites are my Uncle Fred and Uncle George. But don't tell the other ones!"

Snape allowed himself to smirk at that. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Thanks, Severus!" Samantha said with a toothy smile. She turned to her mother. "Mummy, can Severus walk back with us?"

Hermione immediately balked at the idea. "Oh, honey, I'm sure he has other things he has to be doing. Teacher things. Elsewhere," she added forcefully, hinting at him to leave.

He acted as though he misunderstood her. "Nonsense. I would love to accompany you back to your rooms. Lead the way, Miss Samantha."

Of course, Samantha didn't know the way back, so Hermione led the way, all the while fuming at her nosy former professor.

They reached their rooms and Hermione was prepared to say goodbye to the man but Samantha had other ideas.

"Severus, would you come have juice with me?" the girl asked, and not even Voldemort could have been able to say no to that voice and those eyes.

"Ah … I suppose," Snape said, and followed them into their rooms.

Hermione closed the door behind them, resisting the urge the bang her head against the wall. She didn’t know which would be the death of her - her nosy teacher or her traitorous child. Probably both. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Samantha get settled in to their rooms, Snape gets more than he bargained for from an affectionate 3-year old, and what is in that box?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts! I’m hoping to update this fic every 2-3 days, but here’s chapter 2 a little earlier. 
> 
> If you read this when I originally posted it, no major plot points are going to change. Just tightening up some of my writing from a decade ago (how did we get so old?). 
> 
> Side note: I decided not to change the timeline for Hermione’s arrival to teach at Hogwarts. That would involve a much bigger re-write. In the real world, that is nowhere near enough notice for a teacher to prepare for classes starting in September. 
> 
> That’s all for now. Enjoy!

Having Severus Snape in her kitchen drinking juice with her 3-year old daughter was perhaps the strangest thing she had ever experienced. She wasn’t altogether sure she wasn’t having a psychotic break 

Listening to her daughter talk non-stop wasn't new to her, and she could almost pretend the surly Potions Master wasn't there, but every so often he would reply to a question, ask one of his own, or just agree with her daughter in some way that reminded her he was in fact there, in her kitchen, drinking grape juice with the least soured expression she’d ever seen grace his features.

He asked only semi-personal questions, and directed them all at Samantha, as though he knew Hermione would either not answer, or ask him to leave.

He was clearly having too much fun at her expense, and it made her itch to slap him just a little bit.

While the unlikely pair chatted away, Hermione thought back to her behavior at Hagrid's hut. She hadn't wanted him to know she had a daughter, that much was obvious, but she couldn't figure out why. It's wasn't like she was embarrassed by Samantha … on the contrary she was very proud to be her mother. But the idea of Snape knowing she had a 3-year old child … it had made her act strange. It made her feel strange.

Hermione was pulled from her thoughts as Samantha stood up from the table and started dragging Snape out of his chair to show him her room.

"Samantha, manners," Hermione reminded, and the girl immediately stopped yanking on his arm.

"Sorry, Severus," the tiny girl said sheepishly, guiding him much more carefully to her room.

Hermione stood from the table and joined them as her daughter showed him her favorite toys and he examined her room carefully.

"I see you like green," he noted smugly, and Hermione mentally smacked herself for never having noticed its significance before.

"Trust me, she's no Slytherin," Hermione insisted, speaking to him directly for the first time in almost an hour.

"Well … maybe she doesn't get it from you," he implied, and Hermione had to look away to not glare daggers at him, blinking away her twitching eye and tightening her arms around herself.

She knew that Snape had caught her reaction, and he was curious. The fact that he couldn't be bothered to mind his own business was quickly driving her up the wall.

Severus took in the rest of the room, including the pictures of Samantha with her mother when she was a baby, one for each year, it appeared, a large picture of Samantha with her "two favorite Uncles", a small tapestry that read:  **_Samantha Ginevra Molly Granger is 3 years old today!_ ** and an excessively large stuffed lion in the corner.

He smirked at her mother's obvious attempts to sway her towards Gryffindor.  _ Not that I would have done any different with a serpent. _

Samantha tried to stifle a yawn, but the adults in the room both caught it, and Hermione insisted it was time for bed.

Snape finally made to remove himself, but Samantha made him promise to say goodnight before he left, so he waited for her to get changed into her pajamas.

Hermione busied herself with cleaning up the kitchen, avoiding both an awkward silence and a predictable interrogation from Snape.

Finally Samantha walked out of her room clad in her pink unicorn pajamas. Hermione took her to the bathroom, trying to imagine what was going through Snape's mind while listening to Samantha sing "It's a Small World After All" while brushing her teeth.

Finally she was ready for bed, and she hurried over to give Snape a goodnight hug.

At this he finally seemed hesitant, glancing at Hermione for either permission or refusal. When she only shrugged tensely, Snape crouched down, patting her back awkwardly while the tiny child hugged him as tight as her little arms were able, and then shocked him with a quick kiss on the nose.

Hermione bit her lip and fought the urge to laugh at the incredulous look on his face, reaching for Samantha’s hand and guiding her to bed.

"I like him, Mummy," Samantha told her as she was tucked in.

"Hmm," Hermione replied, not sure how to answer that.

"I hope he comes to see us again soon," she added, rolling her head into her pillow and curling her shoulders up, finally releasing all that 3-year old energy and greeting sleep.

Hermione watched her for a moment, worrying her lip and sighing deeply. Most days she envied her daughter’s innocence and optimism. With a shake of her head she leaned down slowly, kissing Samantha’s forehead before turning off the light and closing the door.

She walked past the silent Potions master into the kitchen, moving the dishes into the sink, turning on the water and adding soap. After a moment of silent scrubbing, she offered, "Well, you made quite an impression on her.”

"Indeed," Snape replied, closer behind her than she'd expected, but she willed herself not to jump or otherwise react. "You are aware that a simple cleansing charm will take care of those?"

Hermione shrugged, putting a little more effort into her scrubbing than necessary. "I like doing things by hand."

"I see. And those pictures in her room … those were muggle pictures, yes? Unmoving?" His inquiry was soft, but pointed.

"So?" Hermione asked, scrubbing the teacups even harder.

"Just making conversation," he replied idly.

"Why?" Hermione asked him. "Since when do  _ we _ make conversation?"

Snape stepped up beside her, rolling up his sleeves. She suddenly realized that he'd been wearing muggle clothing under his robes, which he'd hung up when they had gotten back. She tried not to stare at his arms, and ignored the voice in her head telling her she'd never seen this much of his skin.

"Since we are now colleagues, I thought it prudent to at least make an attempt to socialize," Snape explained simply, grabbing a towel off the counter and drying the dishes she'd finished with.

She gave him a scrutinizing look, trying to read him. "I wasn't under the impression that you  _ socialized _ with any of the other professors. In fact, if memory serves, you went out of your way to avoid situations such as these."

Snape inclined his eyebrow, tempted to ask her when she started paying so much attention to his actions, but he left it. For now.

"That was before Voldemort was defeated for good. At that time I couldn't afford to "bond" with my colleagues. Working relationships are as much of a weakness as personal relationships. With the dark lord long defeated, and my miraculous survival of the war, I find myself suddenly … free to  _ socialize _ ," he told her.

Hermione couldn't remember ever hearing him use the word “socialize” quite so often. Yet another thing about him that struck her as strange.

"Alright then," Hermione said, loosening her tight fingers and passing him the last cup to dry off. "You can help me set up my living room."

"This will be done by hand, I presume?" Snape wondered.

It wasn’t a “no”, and still he kept surprising her. Hermione nodded, taking the towel from him to dry her hands off. "We can get to know each other a little better while setting up my furniture."

Snape nodded, following her into another section of her rooms where she had deposited and resized her luggage, leaving it sitting in a pile on the floor.

"Well, let's get to it, then!" Hermione said with obvious fake enthusiasm. Snape didn't take the bait, so together they set to work separating the furniture.

…

For the most part their conversation was civilized. She asked about Hogwarts, his classes, if he had any new "insufferable know-it-alls" in his Potions classes; he insisted there were none, that as usual none of his students showed the least bit of competence. It was only a few minutes later that Hermione discovered the hidden compliment in his words. Hermione told him about Harry and Ginny's wedding, and their pregnancy, and he did a very good job of hiding his distaste for the subject. Still she didn't get the desired reaction out of him ...

Hermione was waiting for him to ask her what he really wanted to, so she could kick him out and be done with it, but he didn't. For the most part they steered clear of even mentioning Samantha's name.

Once he asked her what she did after graduation, and she fixed him with a hard look and said, "Had a baby. You?" That was the end of that conversation.

In a way, she sort of admired his patience. He didn't seem to be a man who cared about being tactful, and yet as curious as he was, he didn't push her to tell him.

She told him as little about the last 4 years as she could, offering him snippets with mostly vague details. Places they lived, jobs she did.

From what he could gather from the clues she did provide, she had little to no contact with her parents, though they were still alive. She never married, or talked about Samantha's father at all. She didn't seem to resent the child for halting her career and potential, which he found surprising, considering the time and effort she had always put into her school work, as well as her dedication to the magical community during the war. The child had been brought up in both the magical and muggle worlds, but Granger seemed to lean more towards muggle methods. He had a feeling that if it hadn't been for the Weasleys, both girls' lives would have been very different after Hermione got pregnant.

He tried to narrow down who the father could have been. He had immediately assumed it was the Weasley boy's child, but she didn’t have a speck of red in her hair, and the freckles could be just a reaction to the sun. Next he suspected Harry Potter as a potential candidate, but she didn't have his eyes, and she didn't talk about his Weasleyy née Potter wife with any jealousy or guilt, so Snape crossed him off his list as well. He knew she'd had a romance with the Durmstrang Quidditch player, Krum something or other, but the man was at least 3 years older than her, and she had seemed more sensible than that.  _ Then again, she did get pregnant at 18 … perhaps Krum is the father, and he left her when he discovered the pregnancy, and that's why she refuses to speak of him … it's a possibility. I shall have to do some research into the man. _

"Where is this book shelf going?" he wondered aloud after they’d fallen into a lengthy silence, finally finished with the last screw. He was happy that being a Potions Master meant using his hands a lot, otherwise he would be terribly cramped.

"That one goes in my bedroom," she told him, standing up from the coffee table she was working on. "Here, help me finish this, then we'll put that in my room and take a break."

She stretched out her sore muscles as he leaned the bookshelf against the wall, then she moved to the other side of the table and attached the other two legs while he tightened the ones she'd already done, and then she picked out a spot in her room for the bookshelf while he tightened the rest.

She came back out of her bedroom as he was turning the coffee table over, and she had to remind herself to look away from his bent-over backside.  _ For Merlin's sake, Hermione, he was your professor! _

"Ready?" he asked her.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and they each took an end and carried it into her bedroom, setting it down on the far wall, facing the side of her bed.

"Perfect," Hermione stated, wiping the sheen of sweat off her brow.

Snape grunted his approval, rolling his shoulders back and cracking his stiff joints.

Hermione was suddenly feeling overheated, so she thought she'd change into something lighter. The added bonus of having a few moments away from his scrutinizing gaze was not lost on her.

"There's some sodas in the fridge, or if you want some wine in the cupboard … I don't really keep anything stronger in the house, 'cause of Samantha," Hermione explained. "Make yourself at home, I'm just gonna change into something a little more breathable."

Snape nodded, taking his cue to leave the room, and she closed the door, resisting the desire to fan herself off as she quickly undressed.

Snape returned to the kitchen, wondering briefly if he should get Granger drunk … then maybe she'd just fess up about who she made the mistake of sleeping with and his interest in the matter would dissolve. Because that's all this was … curiosity. Boredom. Now that the war was over and he was no longer a double-agent, he found himself with an abundance of time on his hands, and not even sinking himself into his potions could pass all the time. Alcohol helped.

Then he remembered the little girl sleeping in the next room, and knew there was a reason she didn't keep strong alcohol in the house … she didn't want to get drunk. She didn't want to lose control around her daughter. That was something he could relate to. Some times control was all you had.

So, he pulled two sodas out of the refrigerator and waited. He sat down at the table, opening his drink and taking a refreshing sip, stretching out his legs. Resisted the urge to tap his fingers on the surface of the table.

…  _ Are her rooms bigger than mine? Perhaps I’ll have a word with Minerva about an expansion. _

The sound of her bedroom door opening caught his wandering attention, and he looked up in time to see her pull her hair up off her neck and tie it up in a simple bun.

His eyes wandered down her bare neck and met her nearly naked shoulders, and he had to work surprisingly hard to keep his jaw from dropping as he took in the rest of her. She had discarded her sweater, jeans, socks, and boots, and changed into a  _ not-nearly-long-enough _ tank top and  _ can-that-even-be-called-clothing _ shorts.

His gaze dropped all the way down to her bare feet, which were ridiculously (he shuddered at the word) cute, and snapped out of his daze when he heard her talking.

" … hits the spot, right there," she said dramatically, gulping down her cold soda and bringing the can up to her forehead.

_ She definitely does not look like the mother of a 3-year old child … looks more like … no, don't even go there. Pull it together, Severus. _

He forced his eyes to look away from the strap of her bra peeking out from under her tank top, and swallowed more bubbling liquid.

_ How is it possible she's not married … or at least living with someone. All these "Uncles" the girl spoke of, are obviously her male friends, the Weasleys and undoubtedly her muggle friends. Her peers must be blind … _

"Snape?" she asked him, making him jolt.

"What?"

"I just suggested we move on to unpacking, I think our muscles could use the break … unless you're ready to call it a night?"

It sounded only slightly like a challenge, and the slight smirk on her face was enough to bring him back to focus.

"No, I believe I’ve found my second wind," Snape assured her. "Just drifted off in my thoughts for a moment there."

Hermione nodded, finishing her drink. "I try not to do that. My mind tends to wander, and there are certain things that I wouldn't …"

She stopped, seeming to realize a little late who she was talking to.

"Anyway … I’ll uh, get back to work," she said, tossing her empty can in her recycling bin.

Snape started at the strange box for a few moments before shrugging and chugging back the rest of the carbonated drink, and repeating her actions with the can. It wasn’t Firewhisky, but it clenched the dryness in his throat all the same.

He came back into the living room just as she was stretching out, and he found himself captivated, watching as she leaned one way, her muscles stretching and loosening beneath her soft skin, then repeated the same motion in reverse. He nearly lost it when she bent to stretch her back and legs, and he cleared his throat, announcing his presence in the room.

She stood back up immediately, embarrassed that he caught her in such an awkward position, but pushed past it and handed him a small knife.

"To open the boxes," she explained awkwardly. "Unless you've got particularly long nails …?"

He rolled his eyes. "The knife will suffice."

Hermione nodded and turned her focus to the pile of boxes in front of her.

They had pushed the couch back against the wall, so they could sit while they worked.

Hermione sorted the board games under the coffee table while Snape organized the children's books on the smaller bookshelf set against the opposite wall.

Hermione looked up as he was taking the lid off of a new box and lurched forward. "No!"

He remained stock-still, bent over the box, staring at her. "Is there a problem?" He asked smoothly, though his eyes betrayed his calm voice. His fingers gently gripped the lid that he had only just begun to lift off.

"Sorry," she breathed out, standing up and taking the box from his fingers. "This is just … it goes in my room."

She walked into her room without another word, the box safely secured in her arms.

Snape's mind raced, wondering what could possibly be inside the box. It hadn't felt too heavy, but it had been full. It was obviously personal, maybe embarrassing … or revealing. One thing he noticed about the young woman, who would now be his co-worker, was that she was defensively private about certain things.

_ Perhaps whatever's inside the box has something to do with the missing father-figure … or perhaps that's just my mind jumping to conclusions to fulfill my own curiosity. Either way … I definitely want to know what's in that box. _

Hermione came back into the room, clearly flustered but ignoring his pointed glances.

"Everything alright?" he asked half-heartedly.

"Yeah, of course," she answered distractedly, and pulled out a box of photos. Most of them were "muggle" photos, but a few stood out by nature of the fact that they were the only ones moving. One was of Granger and her two friends, Potter and Weasley, another was of Granger with the entire Weasley family – she looked to be about 7 months pregnant if he was any judge of a pregnant woman’s shape – and the last was of the Order of the Phoenix, along with the students who had remained to fight at the final Battle of Hogwarts … those that lived, anyway. The witches and wizards in the photo had various wounds and injuries, some could barely stand, but they all had looks of sheer victory on their faces.

"We lost so many that day," Hermione said, pulling him from his thoughts. "Percy Weasley, Colin Creevey, Horace Slughorn, Cho, Seamus, Hannah … so many of them just slaughtered. Gone forever. And we're standing here, getting our picture taken, as though we should be celebrating … as though we have the right ..."

He sat next to her on the couch, wondering if he should be patting her shoulder or rubbing her back or something.

"I think if we hadn't been celebrating, we would have been lost. We did win a tremendous victory that day, and we needed to remember that. The families that lost loved ones needed to know they didn't die for nothing," Snape said in a tone she'd never heard before. Not even when he'd been recovering from his near-death experience and he'd been blissed out on painkillers.

She turned her head sideways, surprised that he could be so sentimental. Offered him the first sincere smile she’d given him since the end of the war.

"So … what's in the box?" he wondered, shattering the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For everyone who loves "Samantha" as much as I do, don't worry, she'll have more scenes in the next chapter, I just wanted to end with a Snape/Hermione moment in this chapter, and it would have seemed to rushed to have Samantha in it too.
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments, and for those interested in celebrating fanfics in a group-discussion format, feel free to join Fanfic Book Club: https://www.facebook.com/groups/217134689957048
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samantha asks Hermione some awkward questions, and Snape gets more than he bargained for when trying to discover the mystery of "the box".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I forget, I just want to make a small note: I won't be having Hermione call Snape Sev. Maybe Severus down the line, but not Sev. I just can't see him as a "Sev". At least not in my stories.
> 
> Also, I know Snape is a little OOC so far, but don't worry, it's all part of his master plan. After all, he was trying to manipulate an answer out of Hermione or Samantha about who got her pregnant, that was just part of his method.

"So, what's in the box?" Snape wondered, destroying the mood.

_ Not that there was a mood to destroy … _

Hermione rolled her eyes, turning her head back away from the older man. "It doesn't matter."

"I disagree," Snape added, standing up carefully.

"I really don't care what you agree or disagree with,  _ Professor. _ It's my business, and I said it doesn't matter. So, we can stand here arguing, we can get back to work, or you can say goodnight," Hermione stated, hands on her hips.

"Forgive me if I don't take you seriously in your pink short-shorts," Snape said, holding back a snort, but mentally preparing himself to get slapped.

"Well, at least I'm comfortable," Hermione replied, returning to her pile of boxes and pointedly not taking the bait. "You’re welcome to your stifling black layers."

Snape wondered how 'just like that', she had forgotten that he had been prying into her life.

_ Hmm … could it be that parenthood has actually matured her? Aside from the obvious ways, of course … oh, stop it, you dirty old man! You're not here to ogle, you're here to satisfy your own nagging curiosity. … Oh for the love of Merlin, don’t think words like ‘satisfy’! _

The two went back to work for another hour or so before they decided to call it a night. Hermione thanked him, albeit awkwardly, for his help and for being nice to Samantha, not noticing that he conveniently left his robes behind when he left. How quickly she’d grown accustomed to seeing him in his plain black muggle shirt with the sleeves still rolled up. 

She went into her bedroom, pulling out her bed coverings while musing over the evening spent with a man she had once despised. He had obviously only been there for one thing, but she had held her ground firmly, had kept him from finding out about her past. She was sure he hadn't given up … he was just pacing himself.

_ This is what happens when grown men get bored. No … this is what happens when spies no longer have anything to spy on. _

With her bed made, she slid the box out from underneath it, spilling its contents out in front of her. She sorted the items into separate piles; pictures, documents, unread letters, and clothing, letting her silent tears drop on each one. As always, as her eyes and fingers set upon the items, the memories came rushing back. She hadn't opened this box in months, not since the last time they’d moved. It was a bit of a ritual now ... making sure it was all still there. It was a weird sort of coping mechanism, but she didn’t know where she’d be without it. Her mind wandered to the sleeping girl in the next room, and she wiped away her tears, replacing everything inside the box and returning it to its place under her bed.

She used to have a mantra: "One day at a time", but she hadn't needed that in a long time. Now all she needed to get to sleep was to think about one cute thing her daughter had done that day, and fell into a peaceful slumber.

It didn't occur to her to wonder why tonight her last thoughts before drifting to sleep were of her daughter kissing Snape on the nose, and his priceless expression afterwards.

…

The next day Hermione took Samantha on a tour of the Hogwarts castle. They visited the Great Hall for breakfast and ate with the rest of the staff, Samantha introducing herself happily to everyone. Professor Trelawney tried to read her palm, but Hermione snatched her away before she could make any false predictions of her death and traumatize her daughter. Hermione introduced Samantha to Dobby, and the laughing girl fell in love with the funnily-dressed creature. It was hard to tell which of them was more excited to befriend the other.

Their next stop was the library, the haven of Hermione’s youth. Unfortunately Madam Pince was not impressed when Samantha started running down the aisles between bookshelves, so Hermione quickly scooped her squirming daughter into her arms and ushered them out of there.

Remus Lupin was found in his classroom, prompting and excited squeal from Samantha and a big hug for her Uncle Remus, chatting his ear off about all the fun they were having and the new friends she made.

Hermione asked him how it felt to be back teaching, and Samantha asked when she could see her cousin Teddy again, and didn’t he know how much she missed him? Lupin promised to bring Teddy and Tonks over for supper some time that week, and after a quick goodbye, they continued their exploration of the castle.

They reached the Gryffindor common room as always guarded by the Portrait of the Fat Lady. Hermione paused, unsure if she would be allowed inside, but then the Portrait swung open, the Fat Lady informing her that Hogwarts Professors had access to all the common rooms. Hermione smiled her thanks and showed Samantha inside, smiling when she saw it hadn't changed one bit. A fire was lit in the fireplace as they walked in, and for a while, Hermione sat on the couch with Samantha on her lap, telling her about all the fun times she had with her Uncles Ron and Harry, and all the trouble they'd gotten into.

They sat in silence for a while, and Hermione thought her daughter was drifting off to sleep when she suddenly asked her a question.

"Mummy, why don't I have a Daddy?"

Hermione's heart sped up, and she sighed heavily. It was times like these she wished her daughter wasn't as clever as she was. She was hoping for a few more years before she had to answer this question.

"Do you want a Daddy?" Hermione asked, stalling.

"Sometimes," Samantha answered. "Did I ever have a Daddy?"

Hermione forced herself to ignore her hammering heart. It was annoyingly persistent. “Well … a Daddy is someone who loves you very much, and never does anything to hurt you, and wants to be with you all the time." Hermione paused, needing to shift the conversation. "Your Uncle Ron wanted to be your Daddy."

"He did?" Samantha asked, surprised.

"Yeah, he did. He asked Mummy to marry him when you were still in my tummy," Hermione told her. From behind her she thought she heard a growling sound, but there was no one there, so she shrugged and told herself to calm down. This topic was putting her on edge.

"Did you say no?" her daughter asked, sitting up on her knees to look at her mother better.

"I told him I didn't love him like that. He was always like my brother … that's why he's your Uncle." She looked over at Samantha, trying to read her confused expression. "Did you want Uncle Ron to be your Daddy?"

Samantha thought for a moment, then shook her head with a crinkle of her adorable little nose.

Hermione smiled and tweaked her nose with her finger. "Good … me neither."

Samantha bounced on the couch for a while, then looked back at her mother. "Did you love my Daddy?"

Hermione was quiet for a long time, but never took her eyes off her daughter. When Samantha opened her mouth again, perhaps to repeat herself or ask another probing question, Hermione said, "I love that he brought me to you."

"Okay," Samantha said, hopping off the couch. "Can we play in your old room, Mummy?"

Hermione nodded, leading her up the stairs.

Neither of them noticed the Portrait opening and closing again, seemingly of its own accord.

…

Snape wandered around the school aimlessly, mulling over what he'd heard.  _ Well … overheard. _

"The ass left sometime during her pregnancy, and she by no means cared a great deal about him … well, obviously she cared enough to shag him," Snape spoke aloud, trying to make some connection. He had looked into her files in McGonagall's office, but hadn't found anything of value.

"Talking to yourself, Severus?" Minerva asked, walking up behind him.

He felt suddenly warm under his collar, having been completely unaware of her nearness.  _ So I'm a little out of practice. Surely I can fool one witch.  _ "Merely thinking out loud. Preparing for the new school year," he insisted. "Was there something you needed?"

"No, just wandering around, much like you. Incidentally, you wouldn't happen to have seen Hermione? Hagrid's expecting her."

Snape gave a light shrug. "I might have seen her heading towards the Gryffindor common room … perhaps she is there somewhere."

Minerva nodded, an eerily familiar twinkling in her eyes. "Thank you Severus, I might have been searching for hours."

"I'm sure you would have been fine, now if you'll excuse me, I have more thinking to do," Snape replied, wishing he had his robes to whip around ominously, then suddenly remembered the perfect excuse to re-enter Granger's rooms.

He waited until he was sure that she had taken her child to have tea with Hagrid, then made his way to her rooms. As he came upon her door he wondered for a moment if she would have put wards up, but when he turned the door handle it gave way with no complaint.

_ Much too trusting of your colleagues, Miss Granger. _

It didn't occur to him to think he was 'much too nosy', he just went about his business, searching through the pictures she'd unpacked for any traces of another man. There were many muggle photos framed about the room, and on the bookshelf he found a photo album, and sat by the coffee table, flipping through it. There were some pictures of her as a baby through to a toddler, and he was struck with the likeness that proved Samantha was definitely her daughter. Aside from the freckles and the teeth, she was the spitting image of her mother at that age. He found more pictures of her and her friends growing up, some of her with her parents when she was very young. He flipped ahead to pictures of Hogwarts, somewhat and strangely relieved to finally see some wizard photos. He found what he thought he was looking for, a picture of Hermione with the Durmstrang fool … Viktor Krum, that was his name. Snape briefly thought he’d discovered proof of their post-Hogwarts relationship, but at the bottom of the picture was an inscription:  _ Viktor and Hermione, Yule Ball, 4th Year. _

Snape sighed, flipping ahead further, but found only one more picture of him at the Weasley-Delacour wedding, and the picture wasn't what anyone would call romantic; in fact it held Potter and the rest of the Weasley children as well.

He flipped through to the end of the book, but it only held more muggle pictures of the Weasleys, Hermione and Samantha, so he closed the book and placed it back on the bookshelf with a grunt of annoyance.

He was pacing around for a while when he suddenly remembered the box she’d been so eager to hide the night before.

He moved into Hermione's room, eyes flicking everywhere in search of the box. He turned to her closet, but it held only hanging clothes. Next he checked the trunk at the foot of her bed, but it held only blankets. He was momentarily stumped, and then nearly smacked himself as he checked under the bed.

_ Aha! Gotcha! _

He pulled the box out, setting it down on the bed. His fingers gripped the sides of the lid, pulling up to slide it off, but then he stopped.

_ Are you actually ready to find out? Do you really want to know? _

Snape paused, his fingers pulsing, a thrum of excitement coursing through him.

He put the lid back in place, pulling his hands back and crossing his arms over his chest.

_ Come on, now. It's not that difficult. You wanted to know … it's been driving you insane, and it's not even been 24 hours! You're a Slytherin! This is what you do, dammit! _

He reached for the box again, but found himself drawing back once more.

_ Oh, this is just ridiculous! Just open the damn thing! _

He was reaching for the box a third time when he heard the click of the front door opening, followed by voices passing the entry way into the kitchen.

_ Shit! Oh, well done, Severus! _

He silently slid the box back under the bed, and cast a disillusionment charm on himself, pressing back against the wall by the bookshelf he and Hermione had brought in last night.

In the kitchen Hermione checked her watch once more, fanning her shirt away from herself. The time had gotten away from her chatting with McGonagall, and she had spilt tea all down her front when she realized how late it was, and was waiting for Ginny to arrive before she changed the damp top. Samantha had a play-date with Harry and Ginny soon, and they would be "ringing" her fireplace any minute now.

She gathered Samantha's lunch together and put it in her backpack along with her toys and coloring pages, and was finished just in time.

"Auntie Ginny's here!" Samantha cried happily as the witch stepped out of the fireplace.

"How's my favorite niece?" Ginny asked, giving the girl a hug.

"She's good," Samantha replied with a big toothy grin. "Do you like our new house?"

"Yes, it's lovely," Ginny said, taking in her surroundings.

"Can I get you something to drink before you leave?" Hermione asked her friend.

Ginny shook her head. "Sorry, gotta grab and go. Bring her back same time tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Hermione said. She looked down at her daughter, fixing her coat around her shoulders. "Have fun with Auntie Ginny and Uncle Harry. Be on your best behavior."

"I will Mummy. Maybe I can have juice with Severus again tomorrow?"

Ginny's head whipped around to Hermione at this, nearly discarding the Floo Powder she’d been pulling out of her pouch.

" _ Severus?  _ As in Snape? What's this?" Ginny asked her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Long story."

"Hmm … sounds like an interesting story," her friend prodded, and Hermione sighed.

"Another time, Gin."

Her friend nodded, but fixed her with a suspicious gaze, and Hermione said one last goodbye to her daughter before the two left through the fireplace.

Hermione stood staring at the fireplace for a few moments before she went into her bedroom to change her shirt. Out of habit, she closed the door behind her, slipping her shirt off and tossing it in her laundry hamper.

She thought she heard a sound behind her, but she turned around and saw nothing, so she slipped on a new shirt and pulled out the paperwork for her upcoming classes, settling down on her bed to begin preparing for the school year.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, oh dear. What will Snape do now …?
> 
> Thanks again for your feedback! I mentioned before that Samantha is based on my niece, who was her age at the time I originally wrote this, and is now a teenager. It’s wonderful seeing comments from people who love Samantha already!
> 
> Please continue letting me know what you think in the comments, and for those interested in celebrating fanfics in a group-discussion format, feel free to join Fanfic Book Club: https://www.facebook.com/groups/217134689957048
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape finds out what was in the box.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: This chapter addresses past rape. There is no graphic detail, but it is mentioned. We also see our first glimpse of Hermione’s parents.
> 
> As always, I look forward to your feedback.

Snape moved swiftly down the hallway, making his way to his chambers without daring to look back.  _ I thought I'd never get out of there, _ he told himself.  _ Nearly had a damn heart attack when she took her shirt off … … it is entirely possible I have lost my edge. _

He locked himself safely in his rooms, retreating to his personal library to collect his thoughts.  _ If she hadn't left the blasted door open when she went to the bathroom, I'd still be stuck in there. _

He glanced at his clock, and noted it was nearly time for dinner. Following her around all day had been a tad tiring; he certainly couldn't have risked eating while he was invisible, nor could he go elsewhere in case he lost sight of the two of them. Still … it had been long since he’d discovered a project that occupied his mind so thoroughly. What it was that drew him to solving the mystery of Hermione Granger, he couldn’t quite put his finger on ...

His stomach groaned at him to get a move on, so he threw on one of his many dark robes and made his way to the Great Hall.

Snape much preferred Hogwarts during the summer holidays. No annoying children, no messes to be cleaned up, it was nice and quiet. He was therefore much annoyed to walk into the Great Hall to find it occupied with not only teachers but most of the ghosts and a few house elves as well.

The teachers' table was empty, and everyone seemed to be occupying an area in the middle of the room where the students usually ate. Chittering about as though they'd regressed many years, the squabbling and laughter shot through his brain like nails on a chalkboard. He suddenly found himself wishing he'd sent for a house elf to bring him his dinner in his rooms.

"Ah, Severus, there you are! Come join the party!" Minerva called out as he hovered in the entryway, and he cringed into his scowl.

"Perhaps another time, Minerva. I seem to have lost my appetite."

He turned to leave, but this time it was Granger's voice that stopped him. "There you are,  _ Professor _ , you seem to have left something in my rooms. You must have forgotten to grab it on your way out earlier," she told him, standing to hand him his robes.

"Earlier? You mean yesterday," he supplied, and she responded with a cool smirk.

"Right. Of course. Silly me," she responded. "Here I thought you were in my rooms today. Must have been my imagination. In any case, there you go. Now there shouldn't be any need for you to return, correct?"

_ She is enjoying this far too much. And here I thought I was being stealthy. You're losing your touch, old man. _

"Indeed," he replied coolly.

"Very good," she said with an almost evil smile. "Won't you please join us, we were just reminiscing. I'm sure you have many stories to tell.” Her voice dropped to a volume only he could hear. “I know, why don’t we talk about the time when you used Harry's invisibility cloak to spy on us in the shrieking shack?"

Challenge accepted. Glaring into her eyes, he carefully and smoothly slipped into her mind. " _ You've made your point. _ "

She smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. It occurred to him only after he felt her own presence in his mind that entering her mind had been too easy. She’d presented the illusion of having no mental barriers so that she could slide into his mind while his own guard was down. It hadn’t occurred to him that she could even perform legilimency and hadn’t even bothered to erect shields of his own. Losing his edge, indeed.

Her thoughts penetrated his distracted mind. " _ So, you're the only one allowed to stick his nose in other people's business? That's hardly fair. I'm sure Minerva wouldn't condone her professors helping themselves to their colleagues’ private bedrooms while they change. Perhaps I'll just ask her. _ "

" _ You play dirty, Miss Granger, _ " he informed her, then walked around her, taking a seat, presented a calm front to his coworkers lest they felt the need to pay them closer attention.

“ _ And you’re getting rusty, Professor. _ ” Hermione smiled sweetly as she resumed her seat, missing the amused grin on Minerva's face.

…

With Samantha being taken care of by Harry and Ginny, Hermione split her free time between reviewing for her upcoming classes and setting up the rest of their new home. Samantha's room had been the easiest to finish, as they'd done most of it before walking the ground the other day.

She tried not to get too attached to the layout of the kitchen area - Minerva had been willing to make temporary accommodations to the space to ease Samantha into the new environment and to ensure their existing groceries didn’t go to waste. She wouldn’t necessarily miss having to clean appliances like the refrigerator, but calling on the House Elves to bring them drinks and snacks was a convenience that she wasn’t looking forward to getting used to. She supposed there were worse perks to a new job. 

As she filled the spaces on her bookshelves, she let herself get lost in her thoughts. "I should have gone off on him when I caught him in here," Hermione told herself, thinking aloud. "Not that it would have helped anything, but the little bastard shouldn't have been in here in the first place." The more she thought about it, the more certain she became that he’d been with them in the Gryffindor common room as well. Disillusioned, tucked away behind them, listening. Spying.  _ Once a spy, always a spy. _

She wasn't normally one for cussing, but it was something that she occasionally missed after having Samantha. She found herself having to watch everything that she said, for her little girl was very perceptive and repeated everything when she started speaking.

Hermione sighed, setting down the books in her hands and moving to the other side of the bed, pulling out the box from underneath. Checking her watch, she knew he wouldn't be asleep yet.

The longer she stared at the box in front of her, what it represented, and the lengths he’d already gone to to discover its contents, the angrier she felt herself growing. She was sick of not being in control. 

Before she could talk herself out of it, she made her way to the Potions Master’s rooms, the box gripped solidly in front of her.

Her stiff knuckles rapped sharply on the door several times, then waited.

After a minute, the door opened slowly to reveal a weary but annoyed-looking Severus Snape. "What is it now, Miss –" He spotted the box in her hands, and stopped.

"You're so desperate to find out what I'm hiding, here you go. Enjoy," she told him, shoving the box into his stiff arms and turning on her heel, walking quickly but not running as she made her way back to her rooms.

After returning to the safety of her own space, shutting with a great deal more force than necessary, Hermione crumpled to the ground, shaking.

"Well … that was stupid," she choked out, the back of her head hitting the door.

She wiped away the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes and stood on shaky legs. With a heavy sigh, she moved back into her rooms, intent on getting back to work and forgetting it had ever happened.

…

It was after midnight when she heard the smallest of taps on her front door. Hermione didn't have to look to know who it would be. Steeling herself, she opened the door.

Severus Snape stood uncertainly with the box held out in front of him. He looked significantly less cocky that when she’d seen him in the Great Hall, and a part of her took some small comfort in the fact that she’d wiped the smirk off his face.

She waited for him to speak or just return the box, but he remained still. After a minute, she opened the door wider, and he walked in, setting the box down on the table.

Turning back towards her he straightened his spine and said, "I apologize for the intrusion."

"I'm sure I'll get over it," she replied sarcastically, arms folded protectively over her stomach. It was a reflex she'd first discovered while she was pregnant, and hadn't been able to drop it.

"I assure you, had I realized it was ... I wouldn't have -"

"You can leave now," Hermione told him, blinking her eyes several times. It was not a conversation she wanted to have with him, and if she did, it wouldn't be in her kitchen while she was in her pink, fuzzy slippers.

Snape nodded, pursing his lips. "Again … I apologize."

Hermione nodded, opening the door for him.

He left quietly, allowing the regret to show in his eyes as he walked by her, but said nothing else as the door shut again behind him.

She grabbed the box off the table, returning it to its spot under the bed, shutting off the lights as she moved into another room to set up her well-worn punching bag.

…

Severus Snape rarely felt lousy about anything. Not since Lily … But he'd really stepped in it this time.

He paced around his chambers, wondering best how to deal with the situation. Never had it crossed his mind that she'd been … raped.

The very thought of it sickened him, and he felt a powerful desire to hit something. He thought he'd be pleased once he finally discovered the truth, at the very least satisfied with the knowledge of discovering someone else's secret; a game of spies and deception he hadn’t played in a long time ... but nothing about this satisfied him. He drew no comfort from the knowledge that now made everything so clear; her actions, her chosen lifestyle. Two wizards had beaten and raped her, and even worse, they'd gotten away with it.

He found himself growling at the thought, and continued his pacing. He wondered if Samantha knew, but quickly dismissed the thought. Of course she didn't know, Hermione wouldn’t have allowed her to grow up knowing such an awful truth. Potter and his wife must known, the Weasleys too. It explained why she'd grown as close to them as she did, but it didn't explain why her parents seemed to have no part in her life, or their granddaughter's life for that matter.

_ Stop it, you've done enough damage! Your relentless curiosity leads you nowhere good, you old fool! … Then again, it's not as though it would hurt to pay a visit to Mr. and Mrs. Granger … _

Snape made up his mind, deciding to leave for Muggle London tomorrow. He needed to put some space between himself and Granger, and he couldn't exactly unlearn what he knew.  _ Well … you could, but … oh, forget it. If she can stand to live with the memory of what was done to her, you can certainly manage it. _

Momentarily sated with his decision, he allowed himself to stop pacing, change into his night clothes and retired for the evening, his mind spinning with both confusion and an odd feeling of anger, something he hadn't felt in some time.

…

It was all too easy to locate the Granger's residence, but seeing as he would be entering a muggle community, he had to take the long way. Snape ended up paying for a cab, refusing to give the incompetent "driver" a tip despite the man eyeing him for several pointed moments after he paid him.

He found himself at a modest two-story home, complete with a white-picket fence and garden gnomes smiling obnoxiously at him. He bit back the urge to vomit.

Clearing his throat, he rapped sharply on the door then waited. After a few moments a woman came to the door, opening it while brushing flour off her apron.

"Hello. May I help you?" she asked him distractedly.

"Are you Mrs. Granger?" he wondered.

She nodded. "I am. And you are?"

He studied her form before answering, "Severus Snape. I'm a professor at –"

She cut him off. "Hogwarts. I know."

Snape nodded. "I see. So then you must have heard about me from your daughter?"

She responded with cool and measured eyes before nodding.

"May I come in?" he asked her.

"I'm afraid I don't understand why you're here, Mr. Snape. Hermione no longer lives here, nor is she a student at your school, so you really have no business being here. If you don't mind, I was in the middle of something." She attempted to close the door, but he extended his leg, stopping it.

"I take it you are unaware that your daughter has recently secured employment at Hogwarts, as a teacher no less?"

A look of surprise molded with pride crossed the older woman's face, but it was quickly erased. "I don't see why it's any concern of mine. Now, if you'll excuse me …?"

"I'm afraid I won't," Snape replied, growing ever more annoyed. "You see, not only has Miss Granger come back to Hogwarts, but she has brought with her a little girl. Perhaps you've met her? It would appear she is your granddaughter."

Mrs. Granger clenched her jaw and put her hands on her hips. "Now you wait just a minute, mister. What is it that you think you're doing? Did Hermione put you up to this? We haven't spoken in damn near 4 years, why do you need to dredge up the past? Hermione knows how we feel about the choice she made. What's done is done. Now if you don't mind,  _ Professor _ , I am going to ask you to leave. Goodbye!"

He stepped back this time when she closed the door, and pondered what she'd said. He found himself resisting the urge to pound on the wench's door and then apparate away.

_ It would seem that Miss Granger's parents didn't want her to go through with her pregnancy, and instead of aborting the child, she moved in with the Weasleys. What a colorful family. How little I truly know about this young woman. _

…

It was evening, so the ceiling in the Great Hall told her, and Hermione hadn't seen Snape all day. She'd been sure that by now he would have composed himself enough to sneer at her misfortune, but he'd been absent for both meals now, and this was unsettling her stomach.

Samantha had more food on her face than in her mouth, as she was constantly looking up to watch the ghosts performing tricks for her, then giggling and spewing her food about.

Hermione was too distracted to tell her to mind her table manners.

Minerva could see there was something upsetting Hermione, and had also noted Severus's absence. Putting two and two together, she assumed something must have happened between the two, and considering their "standoff" the other day regarding his robes, it must have been something note-worthy.

Deciding to consult Albus's portrait about it later, she tucked it away into the back of her mind and enjoyed the show the ghosts were putting on for Samantha's benefit.

Halfway through supper, Snape strode into the Great Hall, removing his traveling cloak as he sat as close to the door as possible.

"Severus! Hi!" Samantha called out, her attention swapping rapidly from the ghosts to him.

After a second, he paused and bowed slightly in response. Samantha smiled back, slurping noodles into her mouth before once again becoming enchanted by the wonderfully distracting magic Hogwarts had to offer.

Hermione eyed Snape suspiciously while she ate, wondering what he was up to. He wouldn't be him if he just let the matter go. She certainly wasn't expecting a knight in shining armor to defend her honor … no, she expected he would use the knowledge to torment her in some way.  _ But how? What can he do? What does he want to do? … I kind of hate him. _

"Samantha, close your mouth when you chew."

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am taking some creative liberties with Hermione’s parents in this story. We don’t get to see a lot of them in canon, but their characterization in this story may seem OOC to some. I am going to be adding a few things to their interactions with Hermione and other characters as I continue to update this fic, but suffice to say they are not going to be the heroes of this story. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments, and for those interested in celebrating fanfics in a group-discussion format, feel free to join Fanfic Book Club: https://www.facebook.com/groups/217134689957048
> 
> Please and good things.
> 
> CoppersMama


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of the school term is fast-approaching. Hermione and Samantha spend day in Muggle London, then return to the school for an evening stroll with our favorite surly Professor. Is Hermione ready to forgive him for his indiscretions?

With eleven days left until the first day of school, Hermione had a lot of preparation to do. She set up her classroom, acquired her textbooks, read through the course guide and requirements, added a few extra-credit assignments, and worked out her course schedule. Snape had blissfully kept his distance as much as possible, and hadn’t said anything else about her or her past. She knew better than to hope it could last, choosing to embrace it while it lasted.

When she wasn’t spending time with her mother, Samantha spent her days wandering the school grounds with Hagrid or Dobby, playing in her room with Molly and Ginny, working on her reading and alphabet, and of course trying to find Severus whenever she could.

The days bled into each other until it was finally the Saturday two days before the start of school, and Hermione was exhausted but ready. She’d been mildly concerned about having enough time to prepare for the coming school year, but like all challenges she met it head on, and in the end was quite pleased with herself. 

Now that she had a brief period of rest before the students descended upon the school, she had made big plans for the day, wanting to take Samantha outside of Hogwarts and back into the muggle world she'd grown up in.

"After the zoo we're going to go have lunch with Uncle Harry and Auntie Ginny, and then we're going to go to the park by our old house – the one with the swings you liked – and then we can go have some ice cream, and we'll be back here for supper," Hermione told Samantha. "What do you think? Sounds good?"

Samantha nodded a toothy smile. "Sounds like the best day ever!"

Hermione smiled back with a soft laugh, holding up her daughter's sweater for her to put on.

It was still hard for her to imagine that in two days, she would be a Hogwarts professor. An actal teacher. She'd get to sit at the staff table, award points … take points away. Give detention, give assignments. Read students’ assignments and give them feedback. Educate young wizards on the misconceptions of the muggle world. It was like a dream come true.

"What kinds of animals are at the zoo, Mommy?" Samantha wondered from beside her.

"You don't want me spoiling the surprise for you, do you?" Hermione reminded her daughter.

Samantha furrowed her brows deeply while she thought about it, then shook her head. "Nope!"

Chuckling again at her silly child, Hermione stated, "Then we'd best be on our way."

…

The zoo was, as usual, a fantastic experience. She loved being back at Hogwarts and the prospect of a new and fulfilling career … but she couldn’t deny the slight but nagging weight that lifted off her chest whenever she stepped away from the wizarding world. It was a feeling she tried not to think too deeply about. 

Hermione also sorely missed spending this kind of quality time with her daughter. Seeing her eyes light up as she stared way, way up at the giraffes, the sound of her laughter when the lemurs ran and hopped and swang above their heads, the ridiculous faces she made at the hippos through the glass and the utter shock on her face when she heard their sound for the first time. 

All in all, it was a beautiful morning at the zoo. Until they had to leave, of course. Not even the promise of ice cream and a visit with her “best Auntie Ginny” was enough to keep the three-year-old tiger-infatuated child from wailing her heart out at the prospect of leaving the animals behind. 

She sniffled through her lunch and then crashed hard in the Potters’ spare bedroom. Once Samantha was settled and snoring into the abyss, Hermione returned to the kitchen to catch up with Harry and Ginny … lately they’d spent more time with Samantha than Hermione, with how busy her schedule was. Ginny herself was just over three months pregnant, but if you weren't looking for the baby bump you wouldn't be able to tell.

“I’ve been waiting for that big crash all week,” Hermione sighed, thanking Harry as he passed her a mug of tea before going to say goodnight to Samantha himself. She had him wrapped around her finger, that girl. “What fun you two have to look forward to,” she added with a wink.

"Mom can't wait for me to have this baby," Ginny admitted with a fond patting of her stomach. "I think she's even more excited than we are."

Hermione smiled. "I'll bet. She's been fawning over Samantha since she was born, and they aren't even related by blood."

Ginny warmed happily at the thought. "Well, on that note … there's something Harry and I wanted to ask you."

Hermione nodded, taking a sip of her tea. "Shoot."

Ginny gave her an odd expression.

"Sorry. Muggle expression. What I meant was: go ahead," Hermione explained.

"Well, we've seen how amazing and wonderful of a mother you are, how well you take care of Samantha, and we were so honored when you asked us to be godparents, we wondered if we could return the favor?"

Hermione blinked. "You want me to be your baby's godmother?"

Ginny nodded. "Harry already asked Sirius to be godfather, and naturally he agreed - damn near crowed, actually - and we both thought it would be perfect if you –"

"I would love to!" Hermione insisted, cutting her off and nearly sloshing her tea on herself as she sat up straighter.

"Really?"

She nodded, setting down her tea to hug her friend. "Absolutely!"

"Yay!" Ginny exclaimed, tightening her arms around Hermione and laughing through her tears. "Damn hormones."

Hermione sniffled with an equally rueful chuckle. "Then what's my excuse?"

Ginny summoned tissues so they could both wipe the happy tears off their faces.

Harry walked back into the room, glancing between the two blubbering women. "So, I take it you’ve asked her and she said yes?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, standing to give Harry a tight hug as well. "Obviously I said yes."

"Obviously," he agreed. “Couldn’t even wait for me to get back,” he chided his wife with a glassy wink. After readjusting his glasses and clearing his throat, he joined them at the table, scooting his chair closer to his wife. "Well, now that we’ve gotten the big news out of the way, how have things been going at Hogwarts, Hermione?"

…

"I can’t believe it … What did he say? What did he do?" Ginny asked with eyes wide and unblinking.

Hermione sighed, swallowing the lump in her throat that the memories had brought forth. "We haven't exactly spoken since," she told them, picking at her fingernails. "He apologized ‘for the intrusion’ … a couple of times, actually, and since then I've been so busy getting ready for the school year, I've barely seen him. On the one hand, it's something I never wanted anyone else at Hogwarts, least of all him, to know. But on the other hand, at least he’s satisfied his curiosity and will quit snooping around."

Harry nodded in agreement, annoyed at the older man for his lack of tact. “He’s still a complete idiot.”

It was Ginny who said, "I can understand why he'd be so nosy about it."

Harry and Hermione stared back at her with matching expressions of shock and confusion. Hermione’s mouth might have hit the floor.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I just mean … well, you remember what he was like when we were in school. You can't expect him to change  _ just like that _ because the war is over.” She glanced between her unconvinced husband and friend, pressing on. “Hermione, you once told me that out of everyone in the school, he was the one person you most identified with, because of your shared thirst for knowledge, and intolerance for error or miscalculation. You both love solving puzzles … remember that logic test in your first year? If he'd shown up suddenly with a kid when we were in school, we would have stopped at nothing to find out where the kid came from, and who the other parent was. The only thing that's different now is the roles have reversed. Can you honestly be mad at him for something that you yourself would be dying to figure out in his shoes?"

Hermione sighed deeply. "I really hate it when you do that."

Ginny smiled cockily. "You love me. And you know I'm right."

"I’m not saying you’re right … but perhaps you’re not entirely wrong," Hermione relented.

Ginny bounced a little on the couch, clearly pleased with herself. "Uh-huh."

“I can definitely be mad at him for sneaking into my rooms, though,” Hermione grumbled.

“Oh, without a doubt,” Ginny chuckled. “For that he must suffer.”

At that, at least, Hermione laughed.

Samantha padded out of the spare bedroom, yawning dramatically. "Mommy, I'm all rested up. Can we go to the park now?"

"Nice try, kiddo. You still have at least another hour of sleep before we go back out into that very stimulating world. Come on," Hermione told her, ushering her back into the bedroom.

"But I'm not tired at all," Samantha said with droopy eyes and a second yawn.

"Sure you're not," Hermione agreed, tucking her in.

Samantha rolled on her side, squinting at her mother. "Maybe I could sleep if you sing me the daydream song."

"Oh, maybe you could?" Hermione wondered, smiling and tweaking her nose. "Well, alright. But only once."

Samantha nodded, sliding further under the covers.

" _ I could hide 'neath the wings of the bluebird as she sings. The six o'clock alarm would never ring. But it rings, and I rise. Wipe the sleep out of my eyes. The shaving razor's cold, and it stings, _ " Hermione crooned softly, tucking a lock of hair behind the little girl's ear. " _ Cheer up sleepy Jean. Oh what can it mean to a daydream believer and a homecoming queen … _ "

She trailed off, noting her daughter's soft snoring, and gave her a light peck on the cheek before leaving the room.

"I wish I had your voice," Ginny complimented her when she came back to the table.

"Well, I've had plenty of practice. She usually wants to hear that song every night before bedtime. My mom used to … whenever I had a bad dream, it would make me feel better."

Ginny nodded with sad eyes. "It's their own fault that they're not a part of Samantha's life," she reminded her friend.

Hermione nodded in agreement. "I know. I wouldn't want them around her anyway. I just … there's a lot of things I miss."

“Well, no matter what, you always have a family with us," Ginny told her, and Harry nodded in agreement.

Hermione gripped their hands gratefully, pushing away the memories that threatened to bubble to the surface. She’d spent so much time living in the past, she needed to focus on the future. 

…

"Come on, Mommy, you can do it," Samantha urged her mother on, bouncing with excitement.

"I'm going to do it," Hermione informed her daughter. "Just give me a minute."

Samantha sighed dramatically, dancing on the spot. "No more minutes, I'm gonna pee my pants!"

Hermione rapped her knuckles in quick succession on the door in front of her and waited, exhaling her nerves.

The door opened a few moments later.

"I have to pee!" she exclaimed, bouncing with her knees together.

Snape raised his eyebrows and stepped aside, allowing the girl to rush past him and showing her quickly to the bathroom lest he have an unpleasant mess to deal with.

Hermione waited uncertainly in the doorway, and when Snape came back he motioned for her to come in, closing the door behind her.

"Sorry about that," she said. "Small children can't always hold their bladders very well."

Snape nodded in understanding. "It's no trouble."

A few awkward moments passed, the silence only interrupted by the sound of Samantha singing on the toilet.

"About before … I wish to once more apol –"

Hermione shook her head, putting a hand up to stop him. "It’s not something that needs to be talked about. We actually came to see if you wanted to join us for a trip down to the lake before supper. Samantha wants to see the squid, and she insisted we ask you to come."

"Ah … I see" Snape said, almost appearing to fidget at the request. "I understand how that would be ... awkward. If you wanted me to tell her that I couldn't come, I'm certain I could be persuasive."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I have no doubt that you could, but that's not necessary. We'd both like you to come, if you're not busy. You were right before … about us being colleagues. I see no reason why we shouldn't get to know each other. Samantha … my daughter clearly has some affection for you. I’d rather not give her a reason to dislike anyone, you included, so even if we have nothing to talk about … there's that," she finished awkwardly, scratching her ear.

"I see. … Very well, then," Snape agreed after a minute, just as the toilet flushed.

Hermione motioned past him, stepping into the doorway of his rooms. "She needs help washing her hands."

Snape nodded in understanding, stepping aside so she could enter and follow the sounds of her daughter to the bathroom, leaving him with his thoughts.

_ Spending time with her and her kid? Now? You're supposed to be using this time more productively, Severus! There's only two days until the beginning of the school year, and by then you'll be too preoccupied by snot-nosed brats to do a proper search! How are you going to get this out of your head if you can't get it over with quickly? Damned fool! Oh, shut up, here they come. _

"Have you emptied your bladder sufficiently for a walk to the lake?" he asked the smaller Granger.

"Yep!" Samantha answered. "I feel much better now! Did you know most mammals pee for 21 seconds? I learned it at the zoo!"

Snape blinked down at the smiling child. “That is not information I was previously aware of … ah, thank you for sharing that …”

Hermione stepped in, saving him from further awkwardness. "Professor Snape knows lots of facts about Potions, Samantha. Perhaps he’ll tell you some on our way down to the lake. 

Samantha beamed back at Snape excitedly. “Yes please!”

“Let’s walk and talk, Sweetie,” Hermione encouraged. “We want to be back before supper."

Samantha talked the Potions Professor’s ear off on their way to the lake, wondering what his favorite Potion was and if bubblegum ice cream was a frozen potion. Snape answered her questions honestly, though not without a frown at the notion of bright pink bubblegum potions. Samantha just giggled in response. 

If Hermione was feeling slightly more forgiving, she might have rescued him from Samantha’s endless questions, but even she had to admit seeing him uncomfortable *and* polite was a treat. 

Snape led them to a spot where the squid frequently went to avoid students, instructing Samantha to be very quiet and wait. Sure enough, after a few minutes, the squid came up to the surface.

Samantha grabbed Snape's hand, pulling it over her mouth to cover the sounds of her delighted squeals as the giant squid played in the water before her very eyes.

Snape's body stiffened considerably as he looked from his hand to Hermione in near-horrific confusion.

Hermione held back a giggle at his reaction and sat back, enjoying the show.

They stayed at the lake for another half hour before heading back to the castle, Samantha talking Snape's ear off about the fun they had at the zoo and the park and eating ice cream and how cool the squid was and if he got to play with it often and what he thought they were having for supper that night and what his opinion of tigers and lemurs were. She did not, to his relief, share any more mammal urination facts.

Hermione watched in amusement as he forced himself to be nice and converse with the little girl, knowing if it had been an adult or even an older child he would have sent them away crying with only a look. Samantha really did bring out the best in people. 

Snape excused himself when they reached the front doors, claiming to need to check with Filch about something, but Hermione could tell he was getting a headache, and didn't want to hurt Samantha's feelings. That thought made her heart do a strange little flop that she'd never felt before.

Shaking it off, she and Samantha continued to the Great Hall, but when they arrived, Minerva pulled Hermione over to the side. Hagrid was with her, and Samantha rushed over to him, dramatically angling her entire body backwards to see his face like she did every time she saw him. 

"Would you mind coming with me for a few minutes?" the older woman asked her.

Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, my dear. There's just someone in my office that wishes to speak with you," Minerva told her. “I've asked Hagrid to watch young Samantha, if that's alright with you?"

Hermione nodded slowly not overly reassured. "Okay.” She leaned down to Samantha, kissing her head and telling her to make her way to the Head table with Hagrid and assuring her she’d be back soon. “Lead the way,” she told Professor McGonagall.

They made their way to the Headmistress's office quickly, Hermione's mind spinning, trying to figure out who would want to talk to her at Hogwarts that couldn't just knock on her door or send her an owl.

Minerva gave her shoulder a soft, reassuring pat before opening the door and stepping aside for her to enter.

"… Mom?"

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a thing about cliffhangers, apparently … 
> 
> Please share your thoughts in the comment, and if you’re interested in celebrating fanfics and character studies, feel free to join Fanfic Book Club: 
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is Hermione's mother doing at Hogwarts? Will Hermione let her back into her life? Will Snape and Samantha stop being so adorable together?
> 
> Trigger warning: mentions of abortion, past-rape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun little bit of context for this chapter - it was originally written before Half-Blood Prince was even in theatres. … I feel old. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has left kudos and comments on this story so far, I’m glad you’re enjoying it!
> 
> As we get further into the story, it is going to get a little bit darker. We will explore what happened to Hermione, what led to her break from the wizarding world, and her fractured relationship with her parents. This chapter gives us our first look into the less than awesome people that they are. 
> 
> Just as a reminder, this is obviously a canon-divergent story. Many characters who died in canon are not dead in this story; similarly, there is nothing in canon to suggest that Hermione’s parents are of the mind that they will be portrayed in this story. I am 100% taking creative liberties with them. As I’ve mentioned before, they will not be the heroes of this story. Don’t get attached. 
> 
> Without further ado … enjoy!

"… Mom?" Hermione couldn't believe what she was seeing. She hadn't seen her mother in almost 4 years … October 28th, 1998 was the last time she'd spoken to her mother, and now here was, standing less than ten feet away from her, at Hogwarts of all places.

"Hello, Hermione," the older woman answered her. The sound of her voice stirred conflicting emotions within her daughter.

Minerva stepped back, giving them space, but remained in the office.

"What are you doing here? How did you even get here?" Hermione wanted to know. Her hands were clenched by her sides, and she was suddenly grateful that Samantha was with Hagrid. She could feel her heart thudding in every part of her body, and she found herself wondering if it would ever shrink back down, or if she'd be swallowing heartbeats for the rest of her life.

"I used the same method of communication as when you were a student here. I dropped off a letter in the post, addressed to the Headmaster – or Headmistress, as it is – and said I wished to speak to you. She agreed to bring me here so I could see you," Jean Granger explained.

Hermione glanced at the Headmistresses, who nodded her agreement. "Does Dad know you're here?" was her next question.

Mrs. Granger shook her head. "If I'd told him where I was going … he wouldn't have been happy, to say the least … Hermione, you … you look good."

Hermione brushed the compliment off with a heated glared. "Well, it's certainly an improvement from the last time you saw me. My scars have faded, my hair grew out … oh, yeah, and I had a baby. What's new with you, mother?"

"I know we haven't been the best of parents, but that's no excuse to –"

"Excuse? Are you kidding me? You cast me out when I wouldn't have an abortion.  _ Not the best of parents _ would be an extreme understatement!" Her voice grew louder and more shrill with each passing word. Hermione glared daggers at her mother, her chest heaving with anger. 4 years of pushing down the heartache and rage she felt for her parents came bubbling back to the surface … and it had been such a good day. 

For the moment, the other woman seemed to be lost for words.

Hermione turned to her previous Head of House and said, "I'm sorry for any trouble you went through bringing her here, but I have nothing to say to her. I would greatly appreciate it if she would be sent home now, thank you."

“Hermione please, just give me a moment to talk to you. It’s been so long … can’t we at least st talk,” Jean Granger pleaded, wringing her hands. “I know that we hurt you … I understand that we failed in how we dealt with you … situation. But you have to understand where your father and I were coming from. What was done to you was horrific, we know that. We wanted to be there for you. But we just couldn’t let that … the idea of that  _ thing _ \- I mean, no that’s not what I meant …”

But it was too late. “That  _ thing _ is my child, and you will  _ not _ speak about her.” Hermione’s fists clenched as tightly as her teeth, her entire body seethng with a rage she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. 

Jean’s face crumpled, running a hand through her hair. “Hermione, I’m sorry. I’m not saying this right. I’m tripping over my words and saying it all wrong and I just … god, Hermione, it’s been 4 years. I don’t even know where to start.” 

Hermione shook her head, speaking slowly and carefully as she attempted to calm her anger. “We are not starting anything. This is my place of employment, and I do not want you here.” She turned to Minerva once again. “I apologize again for the disturbance. Please see that she is removed from the premises.” 

Minerva nodded, fixing Hermione with an apologetic look that said they would talk more later. 

Hermione left the office as fast as she could, not sparing another look for her mother. She rushed blindly down the stairs and back to the Great Hall. Her pace increased with her rage, she didn't hear the individual calling her name until a wide, firm hand grabbed her shoulder.

"What?" she demanded loudly, spinning with a face red and heaving chest. Her eyes were on fire.

"I called your name several times and you didn't answer," Snape told her, stepping back and removing his hand, holding it up to show he meant no harm. "What is the matter?"

Hermione stepped further away, shaking her head. "The problem is that my bitch of a mother thinks she can just show up out of the blue and have everything be forgotten! That's the problem!"

Next thing she knew, Snape was hauling her down a separate hallway and into an empty classroom.

"What are you doing?" she cried out, pulling away. “Unhand me!”

"Do you want your daughter to hear you ranting about your mother, cussing and making a scene in the hallway?" he challenged her, shutting the door with an air of finality and caution.

Samantha’s sweet smile swam briefly across her mind, and Hermione closed her eyes, clenching and gritting out, "No. Of course not."

"Then vent out your anger in private."

Hermione begrudgingly agreed with his logic, fuming with such force that she could have sworn steam was shooting out her ears. She threw her hands up in the air, all-but shouting at him, "How the hell do you tell your child that keeping a baby conceived during rape is worse than getting raped? How the hell do you throw out your pregnant daughter? I could have ended up anywhere! If it weren't for the Weasleys … what kind of person does that?" she demanded to know, unconsciously invading Snape's personal space.

Snape put his hands up in mock surrender, quietly stating, "I'd like to remind you at this time that it was your parents who did this, and not me. I'd appreciate it if you directed your anger toward something other than myself … perhaps you wish to hit something?" He continued looking down at her, unsure of how to reassure her or stem her anger.

For the first time, Hermione noticed just how close she'd come to him. She could feel his hot breath on her skin, wondering how she'd never noticed before just how tall he really was.

Hermione felt a flush of goosebumps cover her body as a slight shiver coursed through her. "I’m sorry about that," she said sheepishly, but couldn't make herself move.

He titled his head down a fraction of an inch, his silky voice just above a whisper. "It's understandable. We’ll just have to ensure it doesn’t happen again."

She nodded slowly, her eyes moving of their own accord to trace the defining features of his face, from his curved nose which Ron used to mock ruthlessly, to the soft and slight swell of his lips. Lips that twitched under her intense scrutiny.

Her lips parted, wetting themselves with her tongue, and for a moment, it was as though gravity was pulling them subtly closer together, and then she blinked and the world crashed back into focus.

She took a quick step back, inhaling sharply, her face flushed. "Sorry. I'm … I’ve calmed down now. Thank you, Professor."

She moved past him and hurried back to the Great Hall, but he remained where he was, glancing downward. "Easy for you to say … damned woman. Oh boy. Think unpleasant things, Severus. Smiling Hufflepuffs and Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes … that ought to do it …"

…

After supper finished without incident, Hermione bathed Samantha and read stories with her until she fell asleep. Once she was sure the girl was resting, she summoned a House Elf to ask Minerva if she wouldn't mind taking care of Samantha for a few hours, she needed to leave the castle. The older woman came to her rooms without hesitation, feeling she hadn't spent nearly enough time with the little girl, though she made Hermione promise to have tea with her the following afternoon.

Hermione first used the Floo Network to stop by Harry and Ginny's house. They were both surprised to hear of her mother's sudden appearance, but it was Harry who told her she should respond to her mother.

"She took the first step by wanting to see you," he explained. "I know I'm biased, not having my own mother here. I wouldn't have hesitated to see her. But you know how things have been with the Dursleys. Vernon’s a lost cause, always will be, but Dudley and I have long since mended our fences, and Petunia’s come around the last few years. People can sometimes change. You said yourself … there are a lot of things you miss. Maybe you can't get back everything you had, but if she's willing to let you in, you've gotta try. And even if it doesn’t work out … you’ll have closure, and that’ better than nothing"

Hermione shook her head after a moment, trying to collect her thoughts.  _ Maybe I'm not willing to let her back in. _

“I’ll go with you,” Harry offered, a phrase that held so much weight behind it. 

Hermione hugged him tightly, sniffling into his shoulder. “Thank you. I love you, you know that … but I should do this on my own.” 

...

She walked around Muggle London for almost an hour, debating the situation in her head. Eventually her feet brought her to the one place she'd never wanted to go back to, and after a few minutes she pushed the doorbell with a shaky hand.

She'd hoped it would be her mother who answered the door, but her hopes were dashed when she looked up to see a weathered-looking man in his mid-forties looking at her with surprise in his eyes.

"... Hermione?"

She forced herself to meet his eyes, swallowing down her nerves and residual anger. "Hello father."

There were several things she expected him to do: stare at her in shock for a few minutes, slam the door in her face, ban her from his property, or simply start cursing at her like she was some ungodly thing. The last thing she expected was for him to pull her into the biggest, wettest bear-hug she'd ever had.

It was several seconds before she realized he was crying, and several more before she realized he was hugging her.

"I'm so sorry," he choked out, his head pressed against her shoulder. She couldn't have returned the hug if she'd wanted to, as her arms were stuck at her sides, so she just hung there while he cried and mumbled his apologies.

After a few moments, her mother came to see who was at the door, and to hold onto the wall to keep from falling over at the sight.

That was all it took, and Hermione too broke down. She wanted to yell and scream and curse at them, tell them how much she hated them for what they'd done, but her voice betrayed her and all she could do was cry.

Her father loosened his grip, setting her back down and giving her some space so he could wipe his eyes clear. Her mother took this opportunity to hesitantly step forward. Despite how much she still wanted to shout at her, her heart couldn't stop her head from nodding, allowing her mother to continue forward and wrap her arms around her slender form.

She managed to hold back any further tears, but her body was wrecked after the rollercoaster of emotions she’d experienced throughout the last few hours, and she'd lost the will to yell.

Her father closed the door, letting her mother lead her into the dining room to talk.

"I'm so happy you came back, Hermione," her mother insisted. “I didn’t want to leave it like that.”

Hermione sighed shakily, looking at everything but her parents. "I'll admit, I came here with the intention of yelling at you."

Jean Granger smiled sadly. "I would have deserved it."

Her father, Paul, nodded in agreement. "How are you doing? Are you okay? Are … both of you okay?"

Not meeting his eye, she nodded. "We're fine. We moved to Hogwarts a couple weeks ago. Actually … how did you know to find me at Hogwarts?"

Paul looked at Jean in confusion, and she answered sheepishly, "One of your old professors came by the house. He wanted … well, I'm not sure what he wanted, but he made a point of saying you and your … our grandchild were at Hogwarts, and that you were now a teacher there."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Let me guess. Professor Snape?"

Her mother nodded.

"Can't keep his nose out of my business for ten seconds," she muttered under her breath.

"He was rude, but effective," the older woman confessed.

Paul interrupted, "Why didn't you tell me about this? Or that you went to see her?"

"I knew you wouldn't approve, Paul. I figured you'd be upset if I told you, and I didn't want that," she told him.

"Well, you were wrong," he informed her.

She smiled back at him. "I've never been happier to be wrong."

Hermione flared her eyes. "As touching as this moment is, I'd like to continue the conversation we didn't really have in the Headmistress's office."

Her mother nodded, switching her attention back to her daughter. "First of all, I wanted to apologize for what we did … for shunning you. It's the worst thing I've ever done, and I would take it back in a heartbeat."

Her father nodded his agreement emphatically.

Hermione sighed, folding her arms over her stomach. "It's not something that's gonna be fixed with a simple apology. I'm not asking for anything," she assured them. "But I won’t even entertain the notion of you coming back into my life if you still feel the same way about my daughter."

"Daughter?" her father repeated, tears brimming in his eyes once more. "You had a girl?"

_ Eighteen hours of labour later, yes … I had a girl.  _ Hermione nodded.

"… Can you … what’s her name?"

Her mother leaned forward in her seat along with her father, and she said, "Her name is Samantha Ginevra Molly Granger. I gave birth to her on June 13th. … She has brown eyes, like mine … and yours."

Her father looked as though he were about to break down once more, so she excused herself to go to the bathroom.

Everything was almost exactly as she remembered it. They even used the same soap, same style of hand towels.

Out of curiosity, she headed down the hallway a few doors until she reached one in particular. After a moment's hesitation she opened the door, her breath catching at the sight.

Her bedroom, exactly as she left it. With a considerable amount of dust, but they hadn't gotten rid of her stuff … it looked as though they'd never even come into the room after she'd left.

Her hand clenched her jumper over her heart, walking through the room with tears in her eyes. She'd taken only a suitcase full of clothes and whatever she could fit into her trunk when she'd left, leaving everything else behind. Old pictures still hung on the walls, trinkets on her dresser in exactly the same place.

Her old music box sat closed on her bedside table, and she walked over to it. Kneeling, she blew the dust off the lid before opening it. It was the instrumental version of "Daydream Believer", with two monkeys dancing around each other.

She didn't hear her mother at the door, jumping when the older woman crouched down beside her.

"That was your favorite song when you were little," her mother told her, eyes glazed with the memory. "You used to make me sing it to you when –"

"When I was scared. I remember," Hermione replied. "Samantha loves the song too. She makes me sing it to her before bed," she admitted, sniffling slightly.

Jean Granger laid a tentative hand on her daughter's shoulder. "I'd love to meet her."

Hermione stood slowly, pulling back her shoulder. "I’m not … maybe. Not right away," she stated firmly. "But … maybe, after a little while. There’s a lot of baggage we need to sort out."

Her mother nodded agreeably. "I understand. Um ... we already had supper, but we'd love you to stay for tea, if you want?"

Hermione shook her head. "The Headmistress is watching Samantha, I don’t want to further impose on her generosity. I should probably head back."

Jean Granger dipped her head before nodding sadly.

“I don’t forgive you for what happened,” Hermione told her mother, forcing her eyes to meet hers and her voice to be strong. “I don’t know if I ever will. But I’m also working very hard to raise a compassionate and forgiving daughter. I don’t want her learning to hold a grudge because of me.” 

Jean nodded, tears flooding her eyes once more. 

Hermione held her gaze for a long moment before finally relenting. “One cup of tea. Then I need to get back to my daughter."

…

The moon was high overhead when Hermione got back to the castle, and she chose to apparate to the edge of the grounds instead of using Floo powder. She needed the time to think, and the walk to the castle would help clear her head.

If she did decide to let her parents meet Samantha, there would be a lot of ground rules. She wasn't ready for them to meet her tomorrow, and the next day she'd have off would be next weekend. Even that felt years too soon. She wanted to be the bigger person and forgive them, move past what they’d done and be a family again … but she didn’t even know where to begin.

Before Hermione made any kind of decision, she'd have to talk to Samantha first. Being three years old, and knowing how sociable she was, she'd probably be excited at the chance to meet new people, but she wanted to prepare her in any case. Then again, if she herself had done any kind of preparing before going to see her parents, she would have talked herself out of it. Perhaps she still should have.

She pulled her music box out of her purse as she walked, opening the lid and listening to the sweet melody fill the night air.

Taking a deep breath, she decided to worry about it another time, and let her mind wander.

Her thoughts drifted to her meddling Potions Professor. She wondered if she could actually maintain a professional relationship with Snape after all this. He'd shown his blatant dislike of her many times when she was a student, and she was sure the only reason he'd been nice to her when she'd arrived – aside from their first meeting at Hagrid's hut – was because he wanted to solve the puzzle that was Samantha.  _ And after he found out the truth, he must have felt so guilty … that's why he's been friendly to me. Although, that moment in the classroom today … talk about intense. Not really sure what that was about, but I can still hear my heart pounding. I wonder if he has this effect on all new teachers. _

She grew closer to the castle and shut the lid of her music box, replacing it in her purse. She planned to surprise Samantha with it later.

Pushing away all thoughts of Severus Snape, she set off to find and apologize to the Headmistress for being gone so long.

…

Samantha had woken up while she was gone, and the Headmistress had sent Hermione a patronus and brought Samantha up to her office while she waited for Hermione to return. She’d managed to stay awake until Hermione arrived, but was quickly drifting back to sleep.  _ A long day indeed, my girl. _

“Thank you so much, Minerva,” Hermione gushed apologetically.

"Think nothing of it," the older woman insisted. "Things went well, I gather?"

Hermione nodded carefully, considering the question. "Better than I expected, but time will tell. I'm not really sure what I was expecting. Anyway, thanks for watching her. I promise, this won't become a habit."

Minerva waved her off. "I insist that it must. I quite enjoy her company. If you ask me, we could do with lowering the age requirement."

Hermione smiled. "That  _ would _ be interesting, wouldn't it? Hogwarts preschool?"

"Poor Argus would have a heart attack, I'm sure," the Headmistress cackled.

"I'm just happy Samantha hasn't discovered Mrs. Norris yet," Hermione admitted. “More than a little surprised too.”

Minerva smiled. "I'm sure he's hiding her somewhere."

Hermione chuckled in agreement, hoisting her sleeping daughter into her arms. "Thanks again, Minerva … and I’d like to apologize for my outburst in your office earlier. It was completely unprofessional, and will never hap-."

"Not another word, child," Minerva cut her off. “You and I have been through far too much together for a traditional employer/employee relationship. And given my understanding of your parents’ particular indiscretions … well, I’d say you went a great deal easier on them than I would have.”

Hermione had no words left to convey her gratitude for her mentor, employer, and friend, so she simply dipped her head and bade her goodnight, her daughter wrapped around her not unlike the koalas they’d seen at the zoo just that morning. 

Hermione began walking back to her rooms, but was already out of breath by the time she got down the stairs. It was difficult carrying both her purse – which was slipping down her arm – and Samantha, but she didn't want to set her down in case she woke her up.

"Do you require assistance?" a silky rich voice asked from behind her.

Hermione turned slightly, whispering, "Excellent timing."

Snape held out his hands, likely offering to take her purse to ease her burden, but after a moment's consideration for her weakening limbs she carefully maneuvered Samantha into his arms. The sleeping child stirred for a few seconds and he immediately froze, but then she fisted the material of his robes into her tiny hands and fell back into a deep slumber.

Hermione fought back a smile at the sight, her heart doing that weird flop thing again. She barely resisted the urge to say, "Isn't that so cute?" It was highly doubtful anyone had said 'cute' about Severus Snape and lived to tell about it. If only she had a camera ...

They walked the rest of the way to her rooms in silence, Hermione opening the front door Samantha’s bedroom door for him and waiting as he carefully laid her down on her bed, and then pulled the blanket up over her.

Samantha didn't seem to want to let go of his robes, but he eventually managed to coax himself free, and then retreated quickly as she kissed her daughter goodnight and closed the door.

She moved into the living room, sitting down on one end of the couch and sighing deeply. "Thank you."

"It wasn't a problem," he shrugged, standing awkwardly.

"Not just for helping me bring her back here," she told him, turning her head to look at him. "Thank you for sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong … again."

Snape eyed her with confusion. "Pardon?"

She smirked. "For going to see my mother."

"Ah, that."

"Yep. That," she repeated, sliding off her shoes. "It was none of your business, but if you hadn't gone there, she wouldn't have come here."

"Am I to take it, then, that things between you have been mended?" he wondered, carefully folding his body into a seated position at the other end of the couch.

She tilted her head back, letting it rest on the back of the couch. "I wouldn’t go that far, but it is the first time I’ve seen her … them, in years. We’re at least talking, so there’s that.”

"… You're not happy about it?" he asked her, studying her carefully.

She closed her eyes slowly. "It's not that I'm unhappy. I'm just wary. Things got pretty bad between us and still kind of are; it's hard to believe it could be so easily fixed."

"I understand what you mean."

She waited for him to continue, but he didn't, so she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling for a while.

"One more day of freedom, huh?" she said, hoping to start a conversation.

"I'm still clinging to my annual fantasy of a train wreck preventing all the children from returning this year," he replied.

She snorted, smacking his arm playfully. "With an attitude like that, I can't imagine why you aren't all the kids' favorite professor."

"Me either," he joked back, and Hermione looked over to see him smirking. Not sneering or wearing his usual sadistic smirk that could only mean trouble, but an honest almost-there smile. It suited him.

She smiled back, and for a moment they sat there, eyes locked, seemingly gazing into each other's eyes, but then Severus broke eye contact and stood, his blank expression in place.

"Well, I should be getting back to my rooms. Busy day tomorrow," he explained. "Lots of prep work to do."

Hermione stood, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah, I should probably head to bed. Um … thanks for today. For calming me down before, in the classroom. It would have been bad for Samantha to see me like that."

He clenched his jaw for a second at the memory, shaking his head and walking to the front door. "Think nothing of it. Goodnight, Miss Granger."

"Goodnight, Professor Snape," she replied, watching him leave and closing the door softly behind him.

_ What a day. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So … that happened. 
> 
> I think this chapter might be the most heavily altered from my original version. There was more interaction between Hermione and her mother in this update, something I might continue to tweak as we go. 
> 
> My own mother and I don’t have the most functional of relationships, so yay for shared trauma ;) 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments, and for those interested I also run a Fanfic Book Club, feel free to join: https://www.facebook.com/groups/217134689957048
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione tries to come to terms with her parents' reintroduction to her life, and Minerva takes the staff for pre-semester drinks at the Three Broomsticks. 
> 
> Trigger Warning: this chapter contains the description of Hermione’s rape. If you would like to avoid this section, jump past the italicized section after Snape says “Legilimens”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to my original author notes, I originally wrote this chapter at 1:00 am while watching Van Wilder and being “hopped up on caffeine” … so, I’m guessing this chapter will have a few edits. 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and comments, reading them is the best part of my day!

The last day of summer break was upon them, and Hermione felt she was prepared. For school, that was. Ready to impart his wisdom on the next generation? Definitely. Ready to deal with her own family issues? Not so much.

But, she was never one to shy away from a challenge, and she wanted to face this head-on, while her mind was not distracted with the education of hundreds of children. 

After breakfast in the Great Hall and a short walk to the library to return a few research items she was finished with, Hermione took Samantha to the Gryffindor common room once more, craving the familiarity and comfort of the space to talk to her child. They were still setting into their new rooms … their new  _ home, _ and they wouldn't be able to come in here whenever they wanted once school started.

"Sweetie, can Mommy talk to you for a minute?" Hermione wondered, bringing her to a stop in front of her.

"Sure, Mommy," she answered, pulling herself up on her knees onto the couch with a little bounce.

Hermione took a deep breath, wondering where to begin. "Remember when you were asking me about daddies?

Samantha nodded her head, slowing her bounce slightly. 

“And you know how I'm your Mom, and Auntie Molly and Uncle Arthur are mommies and daddies as well?" She hated being this nervous.

"Uh-huh," Samantha answered, picking at her dress.

"Well, I have a mommy and daddy too," she explained carefully. "They're your grandparents."

Samantha looked at her in confusion. "What's a gran-parent?"

Hermione thought for a second. "Well, it's someone who looked after your mommy or daddy when they were little, and looks after you when mommy can't. They're supposed to love you and make sure you're always okay." The last part had a hidden bitterness in it, but Samantha didn't notice.

She tilted her head as though she were in deep thought. "So, Auntie Molly and Uncle Arthur are my grandparents?"

"Um, well …" Hermione didn't know what to say to that. Based on what she'd just said, that would be an accurate assumption. "I guess so. But they aren't related to you. Grandparents like Molly and Arthur are people who choose to love you."

Samantha smiled. "And I love them too!"

"I know you do, Sweetie. So do I," Hermione agreed. She paused, thinking over what she was trying to say.

"Mommy, can I go play now?"

Hermione simply dipped her head, allowing Samantha to slide off the couch and dance around the room.  _ Well, that utterly failed. _

…

Hermione eyed the parchment in front of her, quill poised, but her mind was blank. She had just over two hours before Samantha returned from her play-date with Fred and George, and wanted to use this time to write a letter to her parents.

She couldn't force Samantha to meet them when she herself wasn't sure she wanted them back in her life. She had no idea how to begin to rebuild any sort of bridges between them ... but at the same time, she didn't want them to be split apart for another four years.

A sharp knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. Trying to maintain some focus on her task, she called out "It's open," and waited for whomever it was to enter her rooms.

"You don't lock your rooms?" Snape asked her incredulously, striding up beside her.

She shrugged her shoulders. In Muggle London she had triple locks on her doors and wouldn’t have dreamed of leaving her front door unprotected. "We're at Hogwarts. No place safer and all that."

“You of all people should know better than that,” Snape scoffed. "One third of the Golden Trio and all. You're only inviting trouble."

"Is there something you needed, or did you come here just to berate my home security failings?" she asked him, tapping her writing instrument on the paper in front of her.

"Minerva wishes to know if you'll be joining us in Hogsmeade for a pre-semester drink," he informed her.

“Oh shoot … I was supposed to have tea with her this afternoon.” Hermione bit her upper lip, thinking it over.

Snape tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for her to answer. "Well?"

"I'm thinking," she supplied.

"Don't strain yourself," he muttered.

She glared pointedly at him, but he held his gaze, so she set down her pen. She found herself missing the buffer that her daughter provided when speaking to the Potions Professor. He was far less catty when she was around. "When would we be leaving?"

"We are to meet at the Great Hall at 7:00," he told her, glancing at his watch. "Four hours and thirty minutes from now."

Hermione nodded. "It shouldn't be a problem, so long as I can get a sitter for Samantha."

"Minerva has already arranged for her to spend the night with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," Snape explained. "With your go-ahead, of course."

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Of course she has."

"Then I'll inform Minerva you will indeed be joining us," he stated, turning to leave.

"You know, you don't have to be so formal," she told him, causing him to pause.

He replied, "What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "I mean, you could just say, "hey a bunch of us are going out for drinks later, wanna come?" Would that be so hard?"

"I assure you, Miss Granger, those words will never pass these lips," he insisted.

He turned to leave, but once again she stopped him. "You know, starting tomorrow, you might consider calling me "Professor Granger"," she suggested. "Or even Hermione."

_ Definitely not Hermione. Must maintain some semblance of professional decorum. _ "You'll want to dress lightly, but bring a coat. The night air is cool, but the Three Broomsticks is often overly warm inside."

"Thank you, Professor."

Snape nodded once, leaving her room.

Hermione leaned back in her chair, trying to remember the last time she'd "been out for drinks".

…

"You know, I don't think I've ever tasted anything quite like this," Hermione informed what was left of the staff in their booth at the Three Broomsticks. Minerva, Remus, Filius, Pomona and Poppy had left, leaving only Hagrid, Trelawny, Snape, and Hermione. Filch and a few others had elected to stay at the castle, so it was just the four of them.

"You've never had firewhisky?" Snape asked her, enjoying his own mild buzz.

Hermione shook her head. "It's just never tasted like this before. Oh, no! I can't have a hangover on my first day as a teacher!"

Hagrid clapped a clumsy hand on her shoulder and knocked her sideways into the Potions Professor, nursing his own, much larger glass of mead. "Don't worry yourself so much, my dear Hermione. Relax ... take a load off …"

Snape rolled his eyes, returning his attention to the more-than-a-little tipsy, panicking woman who was currently extricating herself from his elbow. "I'll have the house elves deliver a potion to rid you of it in the morning," he promised, taking another swig of his drink and trying not to think of how closely they were sitting.

Hermione smiled up at him in admiration. "Thank you, Snape."

He shifted uneasily under her gaze. "Just drink your whisky, Miss Granger. Enjoy the night off."

Hermione emptied the contents of her glass, sighing contentedly. She stretched out her loosened muscles, her hips arching off the seat as she pulled her arms above her head, the hem of her shirt rising to show the creamy skin of her stomach.

Snape gulped audibly, but covered it with a swallow of his own firewhisky.

"I think I'm going to call it a night," Snape stated, fishing out a couple galleons to cover his drinks.

Hermione, noticing Trelawny passed out against Hagrid, finished the "seer's" drink for her and stood on shaky feet. "I think I'll join you."

He knew it would be bad for her to walk back to Hogwarts in her state, so he relented, tossing an extra galleon and a few sickles to cover both their costs.

She smiled once again in gratitude.

"You can stop doing that now," he told her half-heartedly, his hand lightly gripping the soft dip of her elbow to lead her away from the booth and out the front door. .

The walk back to the castle was slow-going as Hermione stopped every few seconds to point out something pretty. Snape supposed he'd be less tolerant of her behavior if he hadn't downed a half-dozen glasses of firewhisky.  _ Or was it a round dozen? Who knows … good god, what is she doing now? _

"I wish I weren't afraid of flying," she confessed, spreading her arms and looking up at the sky. "It must be gorgeous up there."

Snape glanced briefly at the night sky that so enamored her. "I'm sure it's nothing too spectacular."

Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically, the subtle motion causing her neck to loll to the side as well. "You know, if you weren't so glum all the time, you'd be a lot more attractive," she informed him with a hiccup.

Snape raised his eyebrows at that.  _ Down, boy.  _ "Is that so?"

Hermione nodded matter-of-factly. "Although, I suppose half of your thrall comes from your sour disposition."

He almost snickered.  _ Almost. _ "I have a thrall now, do I?"

"Yup. Buckets of it." She tripped over her feet, nearly landing face first, but he managed to catch her and pull her back, standing her upright.

"I understand more clearly why you don't keep hard liquor in your home, Miss Granger," he commented, torn between concern and a certain fondness. "You make a lousy drunk."

Hermione scoffed, scrunching up her nose and pouting at him. "I, sir, am not drunk!"

He snorted at that, turning her around to face the direction they were supposed to be heading. "Yes, madam, you are."

They managed to make their way back to the castle with no lasting damage, not for lack of trying. Hermione seemed fond of falling down or losing her footing so that Snape would have to set her right once more. Several times he almost considered carrying her.  _ What a sight that would make. _

He planned on merely dropping her off at her door, but she insisted he come in for one more drink to toast the new school year, and in the end his will was not match for her puppy-dog eyes.

Pouring them each a generous amount of wine, Hermione raised her glass, bumping it against Snape's with a loud  _ clang _ .

"To … children!" she said after a moment.

Snape rolled his eyes but drank, enjoying the sweeter taste.

"So … how are you and the young one settling in?" he wondered awkwardly after a while. Small-talk was not his thing.

"We're doing fine," Hermione told him, leaning back in her seat and stretching out her legs. "We're used to moving around a lot."

He nodded in understanding, tapping his fingers against the cheap wine glass and imagining what her years before returning to Hogwarts had been like with a small human being dependent on her for survival.

She was oddly quiet for a moment before she spoke barely louder than a whisper, "I've never regretted having her, you know." Her previous energetic excitement appeared to have dwindled, leaving her suddenly somber and contemplative.

Snape took another sip of his wine silently, his silence giving her permission to continue.

"Not for a single moment. I mean, I don't wish I'd been … or anything like that, but I'm lucky to have her in my life." She blew a puff of air towards an unruly lock of hair, scattering it across her forehead. She brought a hand up to brush it away, feeling the warmth of her flushed skin. “Merlin, there’s a reason I don’t drink. I’m not usually so impulsive.”

“I’m sure you can be forgiven this single lapse in judgment,” he commented softly. 

“Lapse in judgment,” she chuckled, tracing her finger over the rim of her glass. “Poor attempt to distract myself from dealing with my parents.” Hermione met his eyes briefly. “A ‘know-it-all’, right? That’s me? I couldn’t even figure out how to explain to my daughter that she has grandparents. Merlin, I feel like such a farce.”

Snape swallowed awkwardly, not knowing what kind of advice to give the less-than-sober woman in front of him without making her situation worse. “From what I understand, before yesterday she didn’t technically  _ have _ grandparents. I’m hardly an expert on coping with family traumas, but I assure you that no one expects you to be an expert in the field in less than a day. Your child is not hurting for familial affection, given the number of adults who clearly drop whatever they are doing to engage with her and assist you in her care. In the arena of motherhood, Miss Granger, I would hazard to say that you are anything but a farce.”

Seconds ticked by, Hermione staring at him. The words he spoke penetrated through the haze of her intoxication, but she was struck by the sincerity with which he spoke them. A lump formed in her throat, that familiar flopping sensation in her heart making itself known again. 

Snape decided to press the conversation - and his luck - further. "Why is it that the men who … did that to you were never found?"

Hermione frowned, eyes downcast. Just when she thought they could end the night on a positive note, he had to keep pushing. "I couldn't describe them."

It was Snape’s turn to frown. "What do you mean?" he wondered.

She shrugged, her buzz threatening to wear off. After another drink of wine she explained, "I could picture them in my mind, but when it came to describing them, or even drawing them, I couldn't make it work. It was like … my mind wouldn't let me get it out."

Snape studied her, deep in thought.

_ It is possible … they'd have to be highly skilled. Probably rogue Death Eaters. Only one way to find out, though … good thing she's drunk. She’ll be displeased with me either way, but at least she’s conscious. _

"Miss Granger, I'm going to attempt something, and I require your assistance," he told her. "Are you able?"

"Sure," she said, wiping a phantom itch off her nose.

"I need you to try and remember everything you can about that night, try and picture everything in your head."

Hermione rolled her eyes with a whimper, swallowing another large mouthful of whine. “I’d really rather not.” 

“Indulge me this once, and if I am wrong in my theory, I won’t ask it of you again,” he promised. 

She sighed deeply, wanting nothing more than to never have to think of that night again. She wanted to move forward, not backward. Still … something in his eyes pushed back the niggling doubt and unease in her mind, so she nodded uneasily, doing as he instructed.

Snape moved his chair so he was in front of her, preparing to delve into her mind. He reached out without thinking about his movements, pulling that unruly lock of hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. His fingers tingled as he pulled them away, meeting her glassy, open eyes. “ _ Legilimens _ ,” he whispered.

~

_ She was walking home from her birthday party, enjoying the night air and thinking back fondly over the night's events. Ron had offered to walk her home, but he was slightly tipsy, and she didn't want to ward off any advances he might decide to make, so she assured him she'd be safe walking home in muggle "territory". _

_ Before she even knew there was anyone behind her, she heard the words "petrificus totalus", and her entire body froze, falling to the ground. _

_ She wanted to scream, but couldn't make any sound come out. She attempted to reverse the spell without her wand, but a voice in her head suddenly said, "You don't want to call for help. You will not reverse the spell." She felt like she shouldn't be listening to it, but she did, and simply lay there, waiting. _

_ She was levitated into an unlit alley and lowered to the ground with little ease. _

_ One of the two men, not so many years older than her, began cutting away her clothes with sharp movements from his wand. The other whispered something incoherent, a spell she’d never heard before, and then she felt an odd tingling beginning in her eyes, and then drifting through her head slowly. _

_ He leaned toward her, his hazel eyes gleaming with malice. "When this is over Mudblood, you won't be able to tell anyone who did this to you. Now be a good little Mudblood, and open those legs." _

_ He pried them apart with his wand, never releasing her from the full-body bind. _

_ Several tears leaked out of her eyes, and her body turned a deep shade of red. Not only from their constant beating and abuse of her once unmarred body, but from the force of trying to break free from her captors, and getting nowhere.  _

_ ~ _

Snape pulled himself out of her mind, panting from both the exertion and the fury that coursed through his veins.

"The spell they placed on you made it impossible for you to ever reveal their identities," he informed her with clenched teeth and fists. "Along with the Imperius curse, that is."  _ Bastards must have been using a stolen or unregistered wand. _

"Luckily, I've now seen their faces and can sketch them for you, or identify them in some other way without the spell interfering," he explained matter-of-factly. “It may take me a short while, but I am confident I can uncover their identities.”

Hermione seemed to have sobered up a bit, and was staring at him with a mixture of depression and violation. "Did you just use Legilimency on me?" she demanded softly. "Did you see everything that …?"

Snape nodded, swallowing back the bile that built up in his throat at the thought of what they had done to her. It was one thing knowing what had been done, it was another thing entirely to see the deed and not be able to alter it. "Yes, I did."

She stood up slowly, standing in front of him. He waited for her to speak, and when she didn't he too stood up.

Snape was thoroughly caught off-guard when the first slap landed evenly across his cheek.

"What are you –?" But he ended there as she continued to hurl her hands at him, sometimes fisted, sometimes trying to smack him in the face. Succeeding most of the time, given his shock at the change in her mood. 

"You weren't supposed to see that! You didn't ask me if you could - I  _ never _ \- you tricked me! You weren't allowed to see what they did to me, you bastard!"

Snape couldn't have said anything in his own defense if he wanted to, so he simply grabbed her wrists in his rough hands, neither pulling her close nor letting her go.

She struggled, wanting to hit him some more, but his grip was like being encased in cement, without the constant pressure. She couldn't move her hands, but he wasn't hurting her.

She forced her head up, looking at him with wild eyes, and for once his mask was gone, and she could see every raw emotion on his face, as plain as day. Guilt, worry, embarrassment, anger, and … something else. Something she'd seen before, but never on him.

If she didn't know better, she would have called it lust, but that was impossible. Not from him. Not after what he’d seen … 

Her chest heaved in quick breaths, holding his eyes with hers while neither of them moved an inch. Her head was spinning, leaving her feeling dazed, and she felt his hot breath pouring over her as his own lips parted. Perhaps to speak, perhaps to apologize ...

And then they were moving again. Acting on instinct she'd shuffled her feet forward, notching herself solidly into his personal space, and suddenly his head seemed much closer to hers than before.

Her eyes widened as her gaze traveled from his uncertain eyes to his lightly quivering mouth, and then back again.

Her lower body worked of its own accord, pushing her up onto her tip-toes as one of his hands let go to tuck that damn hair behind her ear again. She expected him to pull back any second, expected to come back to her senses or rage any moment, but his hand remained briefly at her cheek before sliding down to rest on the crook of her neck.

Her head swam, her heart pounded, her stomach flopped, and the last thing she noted before she closed her eyes was that there was less than an inch between hers and Snape's lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger, thy name is CoppersMama
> 
> I’ve hesitated to use the Rape/Non-Con archive warning on this story, because the premise of her assault was in the past. But, I could be biased about it. 
> 
> If you think I should update the archive warnings, please let me know!
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione survives her first day teaching at Hogwarts, and Samantha has a very important question for Severus.

**_Previously: (Her head swam, her heart pounded, her stomach flopped, and the last thing she noted before she closed her eyes was that there was less than an inch between hers and Snape's lips.)_ **

…

Hermione drew in a deep shaky breath, and in that moment her entire body froze. She clapped her hand to her mouth, her eyes snapping open, wide and alarmed. "I'm going to vomit!" she informed him, pulling out of his finally relenting grasp and rushing to the bathroom.

He stood where she’d left him for several moments, listening in mundane surprise to the sound of retching. His hand slowly dropped back down to his side, and he berated himself internally.  _ The woman had been through more than her share of trauma, and not only do you make the situation worse, but you can’t even get your damn libido under control.  _

The sound of the toilet flushing snapped him from his trance, and he straightened himself up as best he could.

She walked slowly out of the bathroom, one hand wiping her mouth while the other held her still queasy stomach. 

“Miss Granger, I -” he began, but she held up one slightly shaking hand. 

"I’m going to do both of us the favor of pretending that the last ten minutes of our lives did not happen. I allowed the stress of the last few days to cloud my judgment tonight, and engaged in an irresponsible amount of drinking. I’m certain you’ll agree that your own misjudgments this evening were a result of your own intoxication.”

Snape opened his mouth to argue that he was not nearly so intoxicated, but she cut him off with a sharp look. 

“I am going to retire for the evening, if you don't mind," she informed him, forcing herself to meet his eyes despite wanting nothing more than to never meet his gaze again. “Please see yourself out.”

Snape pursed his lips. "Of course. I'll have the potion sent over immediately," he told her, intent on leaving the room as soon as possible.

"Potion?"

He reminded her, "The hangover potion I told you I would have a house elf deliver to you, so you don't have to begin your first day as a teacher on such a gloomy note."

Hermione nodded, but her head disliked that very much, reporting its distaste to her stomach, and she ceased the action immediately. "Right. Thank you, Professor." She was relatively certain her mood tomorrow would be gloomy with or without the hangover potion, but appreciated it all the same.

"Not a problem," he insisted, turning on his heel only to hesitate a second later. “Miss Granger, I apologize for -”.

"I don’t think I can take many more of your apologies,” Hermione huffed, blinking back tears that she didn’t want him to see fall. “Goodnight, Professor," she managed to get out before turning towards her bedroom. 

"Goodnight … Professor Granger," he called back, unsure if she'd heard him.

_ Stupid git, _ he reminded himself over and over as he stalked back to his rooms.  _ What were you thinking? Thinking of kissing her? Did you actually think she'd want to kiss you, when just moments before she was pounding you for entering her memories – oh, right … the whole reason you did that. Come on man, pull yourself together, you've got work to do.  _ He resumed a purposeful pace, focused on the new information he had uncovered.

Back in her room, Hermione tossed fitfully in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. The hangover potion that Winky had just delivered glared at her from her bedside table, practically judging her. 

_ Well that evening was an absolute dumpster fire. What was he thinking? … What was I thinking? There's no way that Severus Snape just about almost kissed me. Not after he’d seen what he did ... I mean, I really must be losing it, here. … He was drunk. Well, maybe not as drunk as I was, but he'd had a few drinks, and momentarily forgot himself, that's all. He was probably just pitying me because of what he’d seen in my mind. Merlin, I could murder him. He had no right ... And then I go and practically throw myself at him – well done, Hermione – and he's standing there trying to figure out how best to let me down easy. I’ve never in my life been so relieved by a sick stomach. This is why I don’t drink. One night without Samantha and I turn into an absolute idiot. _

She rolled over slowly, doing her best not to churn her stomach about again, and sighed deeply. She knew he'd seen what they'd done to her. Just the thought of it made her skin crawl and her heart break all over again. Why he'd done it, She had no clue. There was nothing he could do about it, even if he wanted to.  _ Just more of his damn insatiable curiosity … his "thirst for knowledge". Just has to know everything. _

"I kind of hate you," she said to no one in particular, closing her eyes and trying to ignore the persistent extra thump in her heart. With a resigned sigh, she stretched her fingers towards the potion bottle. 

…

The first day of school went by mercifully quickly. The staff spent the entire morning and a better part of the afternoon making sure everything was clean and in place, that everything off-limits was locked up, and doing one last sweep of the classrooms to be sure everything was set to perfection. It was nearly evening before the students arrived, and Hermione was anxious for her first Sorting Ceremony as a Professor.

Samantha was jittery as well; excited for her own "first day" at Hogwarts, even though Hermione explained to her several times that she wouldn't be able to join any of the classes. She had her own preschool routine coming up. 

Minerva had approved Hermione's request to have Samantha sit with them during meals, but made it clear she wasn't to roam the castle without an escort. Hermione assured her it wouldn't be an issue.

While Hermione was obviously partial to Gryffindor, she was curious to see how Slytherin would be sorted, now that the war was over and Voldemort was officially, completely, and eternally dead. She knew of only a few 7th year Slytherin students who had returned after the Battle of Hogwarts to attend their year-end exams, and hoped that the despite the stigma attached to the House, those who came next would be able to defy those stigmas.

The new students looked just as excited and nervous as she'd felt her first day, some even looking a bit green – and not with envy. She felt bad for them, her maternal instincts wanting her to get up from her seat and reassure each and every one of them that there was nothing to fear from Hogwarts, but the professional/realistic side of her new that boundaries were important, and she didn't take the job at Hogwarts to be everyone's mother. She had her hands full enough with Samantha. 

With all of that in mind, Hermione simply tried to look as pleasant and receptive as possible, earning a not-entirely-hidden sneer from Snape. They had an unspoken agreement to forget the previous night and continue with the "relationship" they'd had before, though the tension between them was more than palpable. Part of her wanted to hex him into oblivion, yet another part of her felt some odd … not quite satisfaction, but relief perhaps that he felt he could ‘solve’ her assault. She’d worked so hard to put that night behind her, but it would never really be gone. Having another person who saw those men and what they’d done to her … it churned her guts like nothing else, but it gave her hope that she might someday have closure. 

Closure, if it was possible, wasn’t going to come today, so Hermione carefully locked those thoughts away and focused on the start of the sorting ceremony. The hat was just finishing its welcome song, and she couldn’t help but smile. 

In the end, the children were sorted relatively evenly, and chatter filled the Great Hall once again.

Hermione had forgotten how much she missed that sound.

Minerva called for silence and began introducing the Professors and Heads of Houses. Hermione stood when her name was called, offering a polite nod. Many of the sixth and seventh years remembered her from her last couple years at Hogwarts, and most everyone recognized her as a member of the "Golden Trio", and as such she received more applause than the rest of the staff, causing her to blush deeply.

She sat down before the applause ended, her gaze flickering to Snape several times. He wore his usual mask of displeasure, but she caught him looking back at her once.

Samantha giggled with delight when the ghosts made their traditional appearance for the first years, the Fat Friar sweeping by the Head Table with a wave and a grin. She ended up wearing more of her pumpkin juice than she drank, but otherwise her first official meal of the school year passed without incident. 

All too soon, the feast was over, and it was time for the students to head to their dormitories, and time for the Professors to have their evening meeting.

Dobby was summoned to take Samantha back to her rooms, and he gave his chest an extra puff at being asked to do such an important task. Hermione knew he could handle Samantha if she had a rare temper tantrum or defiant episode, all he would have to do was ' _ pop _ ' her back to the Great Hall and Hermione would take her to bed herself.

The first thing Minerva did was hand them all a schedule of their after hours patrol times and routes. Minerva had made a note on Hermione's to assure her there would always be a house elf – preferably Dobby, Kreacher or Winky – available to watch over Samantha while she was on her patrol.

They were also given a list of recommended amounts of point awarding/deducting, the first on the list being out of beds after hours. The amount of points deducted got higher as the year of the student grew, which made perfect sense to Hermione.

Hermione could see Snape eyeing his with a look of disinterested humor … clearly he didn't stick to the "recommended" amounts.

She also noticed gratefully that she wasn't on duty to patrol tonight. Her mind was buzzing with anticipation of the next day, and she doubted she'd have been able to focus, anyway. Most likely she'd end up wandering the halls aimlessly and miss the most obvious of things, if there were things to be noticed at all on the first night of a new school year.

Once the meeting was over and Minerva had bid them all goodnight, Hermione made her way back to her rooms, glancing over the lists she'd been handed.

"You seem to be anticipating your first day of classes with excitement, Professor," Snape observed, sliding alongside her.

Hermione nodded distractedly.

He folded his hands together behind his back, slowing his pace so she could keep up. "It has been my experience that if the children are afraid of you, they are less likely to cross you," he offered.

Hermione scoffed. "I'm sure it has worked for you, Professor, but I'd prefer to have a more … content relationship with my students."

It was Snape's turn to scoff. "They will walk all over you, Miss Granger."

Hermione opened her mouth to correct him, but changed her mind. "I will take it under advisement, thank you."

He nodded, hoping to have goaded her into more banter than she rose to.

They came to the "fork in the road", as it were, and Hermione looked up from her papers. "Well, goodnight, Professor," she said with a small air of awkwardness.

He nodded curtly. "Indeed. Have … pleasant dreams?"

Hermione couldn’t prevent the grin that graced her lips at that, her eyes twinkling despite her attempts to remain simply cordial with him. "You as well."

Snape turned and left, his robes flaring around him as he went.  _ Well, that's wasn't at all awkward. … Pleasant dreams? What is that? This is exactly why you're supposed to be keeping your distance. Bloody fool. _

…

Hermione kissed Samantha on the forehead, waiting for Fleur to arrive through the Floo. They didn't have long to wait, which Hermione was thankful for. She didn't want to be late to her first class.

"She ez all ready?" Fleur wondered, her French accent as thick as ever.

"She has everything," Hermione assured her. "I’ve outlined some recommendations for her ‘schoolwork’ today. I know it’s not a perfect substitute for preschool, but she is keen to work on her letters, and I’ve included a color wheel and the nursery rhymes we’ve been reading. She’s been working on reciting her French alphabet for you, and you know how much she loves listening to you speak in French. Oh, and if you need anything, you can Floo back here and get it."

Fleur nodded, taking Samantha's hand in hers and waving Hermione off. “Oui, yes, eet ez all sorted.”

To her daughter, Hermione said, "Have fun with Auntie Fleur and Uncle Bill."

"I will, Mommy. Have fun at school," she replied.

Hermione laughed at that. "I will, too, Sweetie. Bye now."

She got one last hug in before the two were off, and Hermione finished getting ready, throwing on her new teacher's robes and grabbing her wand.

She made it to the Great Hall in time for breakfast, quickly setting into her seat next to Snape. “Professors,” she nodded towards Remus, who was on Snape's other side before digging into her meal.

“Professor Granger,” Snape greeted in return. "Where is young Miss Samantha this morning?"

Hermione swallowed before answering, something Ron had never managed to figure out, even after all these years. "She's spending the day with Bill and Fleur Weasley."

He nodded after a moment. "Bill is the Weasley that works at Gringotts?"

"Mm-hmm," she mumbled, lips closed tight around her food. It was still an odd occurrence for her, making small-talk with Severus Snape, and she still held a certain amount of animosity towards him for the way he’d invaded her mind, however noble his intentions might have been.

"And he is also the one whom Fenrir Greyback attacked and wounded?" Snape inquired further.

Hermione answered after taking a sip of Pumpkin Juice. "Yes. Molly was concerned his ‘disfigured’ appearance would cause Fleur to not want to marry him, but she was pleasantly surprised. I suppose it didn't happen that often, back then."

"Indeed."

While odd, she did enjoy her conversations with him. He seemed to regard her with less animosity, and was much less sneaky and curious after finding out about what happened to her. He hadn't tried to bring it up yet, which she was monumentally grateful for.

The staff finished their breakfast before the students, something Snape told her was quite common as the students preferred to spend their meals "goofing off", and Hermione found herself finally understanding why it seemed the professors were always staring down at them from the Head table, most of them impatiently. It did get a bit dull.

She struck up a conversation with Remus, which proved a little difficult with Snape between them. He told her that he and Tonks were expecting another child, and she smiled happily, attempting to pat his back around Snape, ending up with her upper body pressed into his shoulder and bicep. His surprisingly firm bicep.

She pulled back, blushing slightly, not noticing the smirk that disappeared quickly from the Potions Master's face. Remus, however, did catch it, and covered his chuckle by clearing his throat.

Chatter throughout the Great Hall slowly died down, and the students were finally done their meal. Everything disappeared with a small ' _ pop! _ ', something the first years found utterly fascinating.

…

Hermione's first day teaching her students went well. Her first class had been third years, and for the most part they stuck to their lesson. As most students would with a new teacher, they tried pushing the boundaries and testing her authority, but Hermione held firm, showing them she wasn't a pushover.

Her second class had been sixth years, and they had been persistent in asking questions about what she'd been doing since the war, what Harry and Ron were up to, who the little girl beside her at the table the other night was, and so on. She'd advised them that all personal questions would have to wait until the end of the lesson, if all their work was complete, and even then, she reminded them that her private life was not going to be a topic of discussion in her classroom.

After lunch she had her third and last class of the day: fourth years, and they were by far the best behaved. She kept expecting something to go wrong, but nothing did. It was a perfect ending to an altogether good day, even though Hermione continually expected something horrible to happen.

She returned to her rooms mid-afternoon to Floo Fleur and retrieve Samantha. She'd had a wonderful time with her Aunt and Uncle, but couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts and sit at the high table, and talk to the ghosts, and to see Severus of course.

Bill's eyebrows perked at that, as Ginny's had, but she ignored the pointed looks and said their farewells.

Once they returned to Hogwarts they wandered down to Hagrid’s hut for a planned visit of tea (but no rock cakes, Samantha couldn’t spoil her dinner, after all). She went over her lessons from the day with Hermione and a beaming Hagrid, reciting the French alphabet for both of them and showing Hagrid one of the pictures she’d drawn: an adorable likeness of Fang with a very tall, laughing man in the background. Hagrid had to dab his eyes when Samantha told him he could keep the picture, and after giving the half-giant a quick hug ran to the corner of the hut to play with the dog in question, leaving Hermione to enjoy the rest of her afternoon tea with Hagrid. 

After a quick trip to the lake to visit the squid - who was quickly becoming Samantha’s favorite elusive creature at Hogwarts, it was fast-approaching dinner time.They deposited their cloaks and the rock cakes Hagrid had insisted they take back with them ‘for later’, making it to the Great Hall in plenty of time for the start of the evening feast.

Students were just beginning to arrive, and Samantha waved happily at everyone as she was ushered to her seat between Hermione and Snape.

"Bonjour, Severus," she greeted, wiggling around in her chair until she was comfortable.

He raised an eyebrow slightly, glancing at Hermione before replying, "Bonsoir, Mademoiselle Samantha. How are you this evening?" he wondered in his silky drawl.

"I'm good," she informed him, attempting to scoot her chair closer to him.

He looked momentarily affronted by this, unnerved by her decidedly public display of "affection". "Careful," he warned, laying a hand on her wobbling chair. "Wouldn't want you to fall over."

Hermione smirked at his uneasiness, deciding to have a little fun. He had certainly earned a little uncomfortableness, after all. "Well, why don’t I help?," she suggested innocently, shifting Samantha's chair until it was right next to Snape's. "There we go. No risk of falling."

He glared at her pointedly out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing. Remus chuckled from beside him, and Snape  _ accidentally _ knocked over his glass of pumpkin juice, watching as it soaked into his lap.

"Very mature," Remus told him, cleaning the area with a flick of his wand.

"Must have slipped," Snape insisted dryly.

Hermione chuckled, carrying on a conversation with both Snape and Remus while Samantha sipped her drink out of her transfigured cup. They began discussing classes in general, moving on to her first day and how it had gone, and in the end it began a debate about whose class was better, more interesting, which Professor the students preferred. Snape maintained that his students didn't have to like him to excel in his class, and it was no fault of his that they were all complete dunderheads.

This launched him and Hermione into a heated debate, leaving Samantha and Remus watching with confused and bemused expressions.

Samantha tilted her head at their antics, watching thoughtfully. Being with her aunt and uncle all day and watching them interact had fascinated her – in all of the best ways for an inquisitive and sociable 3-year old – and she found herself eager to ask something that had been on her young mind a great deal of late.

She looked between her mother and the older professor, biting her lip for a minute.

When there was a slight pause in their animated argument, Samantha tugged on Severus's robes, gaining his attention.

"Excuse me Severus. Are you married?"

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to end that one with a little levity after the last couple of chapters. Definitely some heavy content of late. 
> 
> I went back and forth while editing the scene(s) after Snape uses legilimency to view her assault. When I initially wrote it, I was focused more on the romance of the story than the trauma of her experience. I tried to flush that scene out a little bit … addressing her betrayal and violation while also acknowledging their chemistry and attraction to one another.
> 
> I promise that the romance will come, but with everything going on with Hermione (past and present) it will need time to flourish. She might get a little nudge or two along the way, especially from our favorite 3-year old ;) 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments, and for those interested in celebrating fanfics in a group-discusson format, feel free to join Fanfic Book Club: https://www.facebook.com/groups/217134689957048
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samantha grills Snape about his marital stats, Hermione sings to giant squids, and the Golden Trio plans a reunion!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more ‘Daydream Believer’ in this chapter. When I originally wrote this, I also added “It’s a Small World”, because of a doll I had as a child that played it. But as I was rewriting the scene in this chapter that features it, I found it took away from the mood of the story, and I wanted something that drew back to Emma Watson’s singing voice. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

_ Married _ . He was 99.9% certain that he felt his soul leave his body with a “good luck” salute. Snape worked very hard not to choke on the food in his mouth. It wasn't easy, but he managed it. "Excuse me?" he wondered once his mouth was free, though his tongue felt suddenly thick and dry. 

"Are you married? Uncle Remus is married to Auntie Tonks, Auntie Ginny is married to Uncle Harry, Uncle Bill is married to Auntie Fleur, and Auntie Molly is married to Uncle Arthur,” Samantha explained matter-of-factly, as though she were ticking the couples off of a list. “But my mummy isn't married. Are you?"

Hermione knew that her daughter was intelligent, perceptive, clever … Samantha was a “gifted child” by Muggle standards, and from her completely biased perspective as her mother, she would argue most days that she had never met a more intelligent child. She also never shied away from speaking her mind or asking awkward questions. And yet, knowing all of this about her precocious daughter, she was still completely caught off-guard at the question she had posed to her colleague, and it’s obvious subtext.

Remus bit back his smile, but his eyes were alight with laughter.

"No," Snape answered finally, pointedly looking anywhere but his tablemates, "I am not married." He moved to take a drink of his pumpkin juice, but Samantha interrupted him with a follow-up question. 

"Why not?"

Snape sighed, wishing he were anywhere but here. "Because I have not felt the need to be married."

Samantha looked at him thoughtfully while he took a long drink, seeming to ponder her next question.

Snape looked at Hermione with an uncomfortable mixture of annoyance and confusion, trying to signal with his eyes that she should "control" her daughter. She pretended not to notice. 

"Do you have any children?" Samantha asked next.

"None that I'm aware of," he answered, spying Remus chuckling out of the corner of his eye and wondering if he could get away with impaling the man with his salad fork.

"What does that mean?" the little girl wondered.

Snape sighed, looking once again at Hermione for help, but she too was looking at him with curiosity.

"It was sarcasm, Samantha. I meant: no, I do not have any children," Snape confirmed, then gestured to her vegetables. "Now you should eat your supper before it gets cold.”

Samantha shrugged. "I'm not hungry anymore. Besides, you're more inneresting."

"In-ter-esting," Snape corrected automatically.

" _ Interesting _ ," Samantha repeated. She too heard the chuckling coming from the other side of Snape, and looked up in time to see the Potions Master elbow her uncle in the ribs.

This caused Remus to chuckle even harder, though he looked momentarily in pain. Samantha watched the scene before her in fascination, trying to turn in her seat so she could see more.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the two, turning Samantha back around in her seat.

"But Mommy, I –"

Hermione shook her head. "Don't "but Mommy" me, Samantha. Eat your supper, and leave Professor Snape alone for now, or I won't let you ask him to show you the giant squid again after supper."

Samantha and Snape were surprised by this, and while Samantha hurriedly ate her food in tiny bites, Snape looked almost affronted.

_ Why the sneaky, little … she knows I won't say know if the little one asks me. That's just downright conniving. ... I'm impressed. _

Hermione smirked to herself, pleased with her own idea, but really … it was the only way to get Samantha to stop asking him such personal questions.  _ Especially when I'm pretty sure I know where they were headed. It would seem I need to have a conversation with Samantha about some things. She's too young to understand why I don't have a husband. And evidently more than old enough to make me squirm. _

Samantha managed to finish half of what was left on her plate before she legitimately became too full to eat any more, so Hermione let her sit back in her chair and watch Snape for a few moments.

Snape could feel her eyes on him, and almost let himself believe that she'd forgotten what her mother had suggested, but then she tugged lightly on his sleeve.

"Psst," she whispered, and he could see Hermione smirking at that.

Snape sighed and looked down at Samantha. "Yes?"

"I'm all done my supper now, can I ask you a question?" she wondered politely. Almost angelically. 

Even Snape had to work to not grin at that, though he was beginning to consider her with an air of caution not befitting a creature of her size. "I suppose."

Samantha grinned from ear to ear. "Can you take us to see the squid again?"

He raised his eyebrow at the word "us", and glanced over at Hermione to see her reaction. She shrugged, indicating with her own eyebrows that it was fine with her, so he looked back at Samantha. "Very well. However, I can not guarantee the squid will want to make an appearance. He doesn't go there every day, and you'll have to be quiet again. Very quiet.” He fixed her with a pointed look. “Meaning no questions."

Hermione smiled as Samantha seemed to ponder that.

_ Ha, I've got her there! So like her mother. Can't resist the opportunity to ask quest – _

"Okay. I won’t ask you any questions when we’re there. Can we go now?" Samantha asked.

Snape sighed, but nodded his head. He stood from his chair, preparing to lead them out of the Great Hall, when Samantha held her arms out for Snape.

He stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. "What?"

Remus spoke up helpfully from behind him. "She wants you to pick her up."

Snape's eyes widened at that, and instantly felt as though all eyes in the Great Hall were on him. After checking thoroughly, he found the students were fortunately - or perhaps unfortunately - too engrossed in their meal to pay any attention to him.

Samantha waited patiently with her arms out, and after another agonizing moment - and realizing that Granger wasn't going to come to his "rescue" - he leaned forward and gingerly plucked the three-year old out of her chair, setting her back down on the ground with expedience.

Samantha looked momentarily disappointed that he wasn't going to carry her, but waved goodbye to Remus and grabbed her mother's hand as they walked away from the head table.

None of them noticed the barely concealed grins from several staff members as they passed, though Snape made a point of shoving Remus's chair forward as he passed him.

….

Samantha waited as patiently as she could, but they'd been sitting on the rocks by the lake for over twenty minutes, and there was no sign of the giant squid. She was antsy and disappointed, and wanted her mother or Severus to do something about it.

"Can't you call him to come out?" she asked him with a frown.

Snape shook his head. "He isn't a dog, Samantha. He comes when he pleases, and doesn't like being around people."

Hermione registered the hidden meaning behind that, but let it slide as her daughter seemed to have grown attached to the grump – for some unknowable reason.

"Maybe you just haven't tried hard enough," Samantha reasoned stubbornly.

Snape arched his brow, beginning to wonder if the child would throw a tantrum. He found himself unable to imagine the little girl doing something like that … it somehow seemed above the intelligence he’d granted the small but persistent creature. Then again, he hadn't been around her that much in the few weeks he’d known her, and all the signs pointed to an increase in the child’s annoyance. Explosion could very well be imminent.

Hermione tugged the girl into her lap, leaning her mouth close to her ear. "Sweetie, we can always come back another time. Maybe the squid is sleepy, and doesn't want to be bothered," she suggested. "I think you're a little sleepy, too. Did you have a fun day with Auntie Fleur and Uncle Bill?"

Samantha ignored her mother's attempts to distract her, wanting nothing but to see the giant squid again. "What if you sing the daydream song?"

Hermione flushed almost immediately at the suggestion. "Um, I don't think that will work. The giant squid doesn't come if he hears people, remember?"

Samantha looked up at her mother. "Yeah, but he's never heard you sing before, Mommy. He'll love your song. Pretty please?"

Snape found himself intrigued by this, wanting to find out what Samantha was talking about. The added bonus of making her mother continue to flush in such a delightful shade of red was an added bonus.

"She might have a point,  _ Professor _ . I don't believe anyone has ever tried  _ singing _ to the squid before. Perhaps it could work," he commented, his silky voice thick with amusement.

Hermione glared daggers at him when Samantha was distracted looking out at the lake for the elusive cephalopod.

"Sweetie, I’m not sure I really want to –"

"Please, Mummy?  _ Please, please, please, please, please _ ?" Samantha begged, really wanting to see the giant squid that night.

Snape couldn't contain his grin at that, and Hermione was so shocked to see such open and unabashed emotion on his face that she found herself agreeing to sing the song.

_ It's not like it'll be the most embarrassing thing he's ever seen me do. I mean, he’s seen me drunk, for Merlin’s sake. … No, we are not going to think of that night. Focus, Hermione ... _

Hermione cleared her throat and pushed all thoughts of Severus Snape and embarrassing mistakes out of her mind, pretending she was simply singing her daughter to sleep. Her arms squeezed ever-so-slightly tighter on the child in question as she took a deep breath and began.

" _ I could hide 'neath the wings of the bluebird as she sings. The six o'clock alarm will never ring. But it rings, and I rise. Wipe the sleep out of my eyes. The shaving razor's cold, and it stings. Cheer up sleepy Jean. Oh what can it mean, to a daydream believer and a homecoming queen?" _

She paused, wondering if that was all the torment she'd have to endure, but Samantha nodded for her to keep going, and Snape wasn't making any snide comments, so she continued, figuring the song might at least make her daughter sleepy. " _ You once thought of me, as a white knight on his steed. But now you know how happy I can be. And our good times starts and ends, without dollar-one to spend. But how much baby do we really need? Cheer up sleepy Jean. Oh what can it mean, to a daydream believer and a homecoming queen? Cheer up sleepy Jean. Oh what – _ Oh, Samantha, look!" Hermione whispered, pointing to bubbles in the water.

Samantha bounced excitedly, her hands gripping her knees as the giant squid slowly lifted his eyes out of the water.

Hermione was flabbergasted. "I can't believe that actually worked." She glanced over at Snape, waiting for him to share in her disbelief, but he wasn't looking at her in confusion or surprise. He looked … transfixed. She found herself caught in his gaze, and couldn't bring herself to look away as his eyes seemed to penetrate into her very soul.

Her body seemed to heat up despite the cool temperature around them, and suddenly that flopping sensation in her heart became a tingle down her spine, moving up her neck until Samantha patted her knee excitedly.

"Mommy, he's going away, let's sing another song!" she exclaimed.

Hermione forced herself to break her heated gaze with Snape, looking down at her daughter and blinking a few times until her head was clear. "Um, okay, what song do you want to sing?"

Samantha thought for a moment. "How about the Something song?"

Hermione smiled sweetly at that, nodding despite her continued embarrassment. "Okay, but this is the last one. I'm sure Professor Snape doesn't want to stay out here all night."

Samantha shook her head at the thought. "It's okay, Mommy. He's having fun. Now, let's sing."

Hermione wondered about that, but began to sing along with her daughter, who didn't know all the words but loved humming along with her mother.

" _ There’s something sweet, and almost kind. But he was mean and he was coarse, and unrefined. But now he’s dear, and so unsure. I wonder why I didn’t see it there before." _

Snape watched the two girls singing, amazed and confused at the reaction it was causing in him. Firstly, he hadn't actually expected the squid to come to her voice, but after hearing it … how could it not? It was quite possibly the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. He shook himself internally, but couldn't stop himself from watching her mouth move, or the smile on her face while she sang with and to her daughter.

He hadn't been able to look away when she'd glanced at him, finding it hard to believe that something so magical could come out of someone so … well, no. Despite how she tried to live, she was truly the essence of magic. Poetic, almost.

He had no idea what they were singing, where it was from, or what it was supposed to mean, but the words didn't matter to him. His eyes bounced between the woman singing so beautifully, and the child so full of joy and wonder and unencumbered happiness. It made him feel … well, that’s just it. It made him  _ feel _ .

Hermione chuckled ruefully as they finished the song. Samantha kept humming along to herself while the squid splashed around. She found herself wondering if anyone else before them had figured out that the squid would come if you sang to it. Hermione liked the idea of being the one to discover it, with a little – okay, a  _ lot _ of – help from her daughter.

They watched the squid play around to their voices for another ten minutes or so, until finally Samantha could no longer hide her deep yawns. Despite the child’s many protests, they slowly made their way back to the castle. Hermione promised they'd come back to the lake soon to see the squid, but Samantha had to get a good night's sleep so she'd be nice and chipper for when her Auntie Molly came over to play with her and make crafts tomorrow.

She'd made plans to meet with Ron, Harry and Ginny at the Three Broomsticks that night after Samantha went to bed. Dobby had jumped - literally - at the chance to watch over Samantha while she was out, and Hermione had agreed, but made sure Molly was ready to Floo in at the drop of a hat if something happened that Dobby couldn't handle, or if Samantha had a nightmare.

She'd never really gotten used to the idea of leaving her daughter at home while she went out and "had fun" - and she was justifiably apprehensive about another night at the Three Broomsticks so soon since her last outing. Samantha had been almost eight months old before she'd spent any longer than a few hours away from her, and that had been a struggle. But her friends had worked hard to help her realize that she couldn't spend her life as a shut-in, and she'd never be able to get her life back if she didn't go out and try to experience it.

So, she'd grown accustomed to the rare nights she got to spend with her friends; not entirely carefree, but close enough. It made her feel as though she were ‘young’ again, relaxing and enjoying a night out with her friends.

Hermione bid Snape farewell when they reached her rooms. He'd been quiet the entire walk back, and seemed to be in a hurry to say goodnight. She didn’t blame him - spending what little free time you do have with a single mother and her child probably were not many teachers’ ideas of a good time. She ushered Samantha in the door after the little girl said a sleepy goodnight to the older man, bidding him goodnight with a wave of her own and silent thanks with her eyes for putting up with them both.

She got Samantha ready for bed, tucked her in, kissed her forehead, and turned on the music box now nestled on her bedside table. ‘Daydream Believer’ played in all its tinny, soft splendor from the small instrument. 

“Thanks for taking me to visit Squidy, Mummy,” the little girl mumbled into her hair as she reached for one more kiss.

“You’re very welcome, my love,” Hermione whispered, tweaking her nose. “Have sweet dreams.”

Samantha nodded her head. “You too, Mummy. And Severus too.”

Hermione’s hand faltered in its path to brush her daughter’s wavy locks away from her eyes. “I … I’m sure he will, Sweetie.”

“Love you, Mummy,” Samantha added, and she was all-but snoring moments later. 

Hermione watched her daughter sleep for a few minutes, wondering - not for the first time - how this had become her life. How she’d gotten so lucky to have such a funny, creative, intelligent, beautiful, mischievous, kindhearted daughter whom she loved with her entire heart. Looking down at the little girl, and around the bedroom she was still getting used to, in the school she never thought she’d come back to, making friends with a Potions Master who’d surely hated her as a child …she’d never in a million years thought this was where her life would be. 

Her daughter’s chest moved up and down with each breath, the rhythm of her breathing a peaceful background noise to her roaming thoughts. She would stay here all night and watch her sleep … had done it so often before. 

With herculean effort, Hermione pulled herself away from her daughter, leaving the door propped open slightly before conferring with Dobby. His little chest puffed proudly as he perched on the sitting room couch, ready to assist Samantha at a moment’s notice. 

She changed out of her teacher's robes and into muggle jeans and a t-shirt, throwing her cloak over her shoulders for warmth before bidding the eager House Elf goodnight and exiting her rooms. 

Ron met her at the castle gates, and they walked together to Hogsmeade, neither knowing the furious efforts of one man inside the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to pretend that I was thinking of the mermaids and siren songs when I had the giant squid make an appearance at Hermione’s voice, but when I wrote it originally I just thought it was cute. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments. 
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione catches up with old friends while Snape heads to Azkaban and makes a shocking discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I originally wrote this story, I operated under the premise that there were Wizard staff that worked at Azkaban as well as Dementors. There are going to be some edits to that premise with this update. According to the Wiki, the prison is no longer guarded by Dementors, but rather Aurors on rotating shifts. I am going to expand that pool of staff to all of-age wizards, for reasons which will be made clear at the end of this chapter. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy this chapter!

It was well past visiting hours at Akbaban, but Snape had some pull with a few of the wizard personnel who worked there, so he had no trouble getting inside the wizarding prison. After Kingsley Shacklebolt became Minister for Magic, many things changed in the Wizarding world, including how Azkaban was run. Dememtors no longer stalked the halls feeding on the souls of the inmates, which left an influx of prisoners in need of new guards. The Aurors stepped up immediately, guarding the island in rotating shifts, but eventually posts were opened up to other qualified wizards seeking employment.

Snape had sketched the faces that he'd seen on a simple piece of parchment - not that he needed to, their images were imprinted in his memory - and closed himself into the records room at Azkaban in an attempt to match either of their faces to that of an inmate. Many Death Eaters had been rounded up and imprisoned after Voldemort's defeat, but Snape knew that not all of them had. Some went into hiding, some managed to provide "proof" that they had been under the Imperius Curse, and as such avoided incarceration.

A part of him hoped that they weren't in Azkaban, as he was rather looking forward to the prospect of hunting them down and capturing them himself. Still, he needed somewhere to start, and this was it.

He had been flipping through images of inmates past and present for over an hour, and was beginning to think neither one of them had ever passed through the walls of this famed facility, when he turned one more page and saw the first of the two faces screaming back at him. 

Snape hesitated for a minute - and only a minute - staring with an intractable rage that sent small electric shocks from the height of his spine to the tips of his fingers.The things he wanted to do to this man … He allowed himself a brief moment to entertain those thoughts, and then tightly locked them away.  _ All in good time, Severus.  _

He skimmed through the man’s arrest report, finding that he was sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban for being discovered to be a Death Eater while torturing muggles with magic, but there was no accomplices listed, so Snape took down the information about where he was being kept, and continued flipping through the pictures with a renewed sense of vengeance.

After another hour and a half he finished sorting through the files on current and previous male inmates, unable to find the second face. Pushing back his disappointment, he focused his attention on the one he had found, making his way back to the main office to turn in his wand before being escorted to the man's cell. Even if it hadn't been a rule for visitors to relinquish their wands and any weapons before visiting an inmate, he wouldn't have wanted it with him. If the man needed any convincing to tell Snape what he wanted to know, Snape wanted it to be slow and painful ... and very physical.

Hermione chatted amiably with Ron as they made their way to the Three Broomsticks to meet their friends. He asked her how she and Samantha were settling in and how her classes were going. She didn't mind answering these questions, but it was always awkward when Ron asked her if she was seeing anyone. Ron had had his girlfriends here and there, but he always made an effort to come back to Hermione. He seemed to think that they were still right for each other, even after she'd turned down his offer of marriage.

Ron was one of her dearest friends, she loved him deeply, but she just didn't see him that way. She always felt like she was breaking his heart a little bit when she told him she didn't have the time or energy for silly things like dating, or that her whole world was Samantha and that left no room for a romantic interest. It wasn’t a complete lie, but it was easier than telling him - as she had done before - that she just wasn't interested in him. Not anymore.

He finally changed the subject to his role as Keeper for the Chudley Cannons, and Hermione was grateful for the reprieve. She promised she'd try to come and see him play, but was honest when she added that she didn't know when she'd be able to get the time off. Nights like these were sure to be enough of a luxury as the school year got fully underway.

They finally reached Hogsmeade and made their way into the pub to meet their friends. Harry and Ginny waved them over with smiles on their faces. Hermione sat next to Ginny, taking up just enough room that Ron had to sit beside Harry in the round booth.

She saw Harry and Ginny a lot more frequently than she saw Ron, but it was nice to have everyone together again. After demolishing their appetizers the boys ordered Firewhisky, but Hermione - remembering her experience with it not too long ago - opted for butterbeer, and Ginny did the same, ever-mindful of the life growing inside of her.

They chatted back and forth about random and unimportant things, laughing like they used to. They talked about Ginny's hormones and Ron's successes with Quidditch. They talked about Hermione's classes, and what it was like to be back at Hogwarts. Ron re-enacted his version of her first day as a teacher, an altogether unflattering mixture of Professors McGonagall and Trelawney, ending with assurances that if the children didn’t hand their papers in on time they’d be “killed, or worse …  _ expelled _ !”. Once the boys had finished their lighthearted guffawing at her expense, Harry admitted that he missed it, and wouldn't mind teaching if he didn't enjoy being an Auror so much. Ginny, of course, hated having to be on maternity leave. She’d played a couple of years of professional quidditch before joining the ministry’s auror department, and like most things she set her mind to she did the job well. She missed the work terribly, but she also knew better than to risk her baby's life with the risks the job entailed. She expressed her wish that the baby would hurry up and be born so she could get back to work.

Hermione reminded her that she might think differently when the baby was born, which inevitably drew the conversation to Samantha.

She had just finished regaling them with her evening’s adventures with the giant squid, commenting on Snape’s surprising patience with Samantha’s antics. Ginny brought up the fact that Samantha was so enamored with Snape, and Ron's ears flushed red.

"Wait, Samantha actually  _ likes _ him?" he wanted to know, shocked to his core.

Hermione sighed, sipping her juice thoughtfully before she answered.. "He's not so bad any more, Ron. Now that we're colleagues, he's much more tolerable. Almost ... friendly." She opted not to tell them about his constant need to stick his nose where it didn't belong, and as such, the fact that he had seen everything that had happened to her. Not even her friends knew the entirety of what had happened that night ... Hermione had told them she'd been knocked out halfway through the ordeal, wanting to spare them the pity and/or rage that would follow. They'd been furious enough as it was that they hadn’t been there to protect her; the thought that she'd been fortunate enough to have passed out had offered them some small measure of solace.

"I'll never believe it," Ron continued. "Snape's always been a ruddy bastard."

Hermione found herself glaring at him, feeling an unpleasant heat creep up the back of her neck. "You're only remembering the bad parts about him, Ronald. You don't know him like I do."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Still defending the git ... some things will never change."

Hermione wondered when exactly she'd become so defensive of Snape, but Ron was right that she'd always done so in school. But that was because of the fact that Dumbledore had sworn his allegiance to the Light, and she trusted Dumbledore. Now, she knew Snape on a much more personal, more equal level ... and her opinion of him had still not changed. He was more brave than Ron would ever give him credit for. She told herself that was the only reason she had for defending him so.

Sighing, she changed the subject to Crookshanks, who was coming home at last. Hermione had wanted the new place to be familiar to them before Crookshanks came back from Harry and Ginny's. She hoped he would like his new home, and Harry joked about setting him loose on Mrs Norris.

They all laughed at that, and the change in subject led them to a less tense trip down memory lane; nights spent huddled under an invisibility cloak, evading Mrs. Norris and her caretaker companion. More drinks were ordered, more food was indulged in, the hours blending together into the night.

Snape arrived at the cell he was directed to and opened it with the key he'd retrieved from his escort. He slid it around his neck once the door was unlocked, tucking it into his robes so that the inmate couldn't pick his pocket and make a break for it. Snape snorted at the thought, knowing there was little chance of that happening, but it was the rules of visiting any inmate at Azkaban.

He entered the dark cell, seeing the scrawny man inside make a strangled leap for the door, and waiting until the last second to slam it closed, dashing his hopes for freedom. His escort remained outside the cell, instructed not to intervene under any circumstances. 

"Please!" the prisoner whimpered, clawing at Snape's clothes. "Please, I've been punished enough! I see all the bad I've done now! Please, let me out!"

Snape pulled his robes away, kicking the pathetic creature away from him with more force than necessary. He ended up sprawled against the opposite wall, struggling for breath.

"You're going to tell me what I want to know, and if you do not, your remaining years in this godforsaken facility will be the least of your problems," Snape spoke evenly, glaring down at one of the two men who had raped his colleague.  _ That's all she is to you ... a colleague _ .

The man trembled, but didn't say anything.

"Four years ago in muggle London, you and another wizard assaulted a young witch named Hermione Granger. Defiled her in the most unforgivable way. You will be made to pay for this crime - this is non-negotiable - but if you wish to ever see the outside world again, you will tell me the name of the other man who was with you." He had no intentions of letting the man ever see the light of day, but he had no qualms about lying to get the information he sought.

The inmate's eyes widened, shaking his head. "I - I can't tell you ... anything but that, please!"

Snape shook his head, sliding off his cloak and rolling up his sleeves.

"He'll kill me! I can't tell you!" the man insisted, cowering in the corner.

Snape sighed, advancing slowly on the small, poor excuse of a man. "This will take as long as you require it ... but you  _ will _ tell me his name. Make no mistake about that."

… 

Eventually the four friends had called it a night, Hermione and Ginny joining forces to cajole the boys out of an ill-advised wizarding darts match. Hermione suspected it was a game invented by equally intoxicated wizards and had no desire to see where the evening would end if they followed through on the arguably bad idea.

Ron had offered to walk Hermione back to the school, but she declined his offer, still upset that his opinion of the Potions professor hadn't changed. Plus, she wanted some time to herself on the way back ... she didn't get much of it anymore. The cool night air wrapped around her while she walked, and she enjoyed the smell of the magical world ... so different than living in muggle cities. Everything was so crisp and tangible.

She had reached the outskirts of Hogwarts' grounds when she heard the telltale  _ pop _ of an apparition behind her, and immediately whipped around, drawing her wand.

"I would greatly appreciate it if you didn't attempt to curse me into oblivion, Miss Granger," that silky voice drawled. 

Hermione lowered her wand without delay. "Back to  _ Miss _ again, are we,  _ Professor _ Snape?" she asked him with narrowed eyes.

He slid easily into step beside her, walking with her towards the castle. "A slip of the tongue," he assured her, his calm exterior covering his inner conflict.

"So, where have you been tonight?" Hermione wondered, remembering him heading in the direction of his rooms before she'd put Samantha to bed.

Snape carefully avoided her gaze. "Attending a personal matter. And yourself? Where are you coming from?"

Hermione answered, "Visiting with friends in Hogsmeade. Harry, Ginny, and Ron ... we try to get together at least once every few months."

Snape nodded, not truly interested in the on-goings of the Potters or the Weasleys.

They carried on to the castle in comfortable silence - on Hermione's end at least - and when they finally arrived at the school, Snape was itching to get away from the witch. He needed to think ... strategize.

"Are you alright, Professor?" Hermione found herself asking as passed through the entranceway. "You're quieter than usual ..."

Snape glanced away, absentmindedly adjusting his cloak. "I'm just -" He didn't get to finish as Hermione interrupted him.

"Your hand!" she exclaimed, reaching out and pulling it towards her.

"Miss Granger -" he began, trying to pull his hand away, but she was as strong as she was stubborn.

"What happened?" she wanted to know, examining the cuts and bruises with a deep frown. Now that it was light and she was very close to him, she could see what looked like blood splashed on his cloak. It was hard to tell though, because it was - of course - black.

Snape finally managed to pull his hand free from her grip, wiping it on the fabric of his cloak with a concealed wince. "It's nothing."

Hermione stepped into his path as he tried to move past her. "Don't  _ ‘it's nothing’ _ me, I know what these marks are from ... Harry and Ron have been in enough fist-fights for me to know. Who were you hitting?"

Snape didn't have a good answer, so he moved around her again and made for his quarters. Hermione followed him purposefully, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach that wouldn't go away.

When they arrived at his rooms Snape thought about trying to deny her entrance, but knowing her as he did, he figured she would stand outside the door, pounding and hollering for him to let her in and explain himself, so he stood aside, allowing her to enter first.

He expected her to round in on him the second the door was closed, but instead she slid out of her cloak and asked whether he had a first-aid kit.

Snape nodded in subdued surprise, motioning to the cupboard in the hallway where it resided. He hadn't had to use it for a few years, as his spy days were well over, but he’d kept it around out of habit. There were both muggle and magical forms of antiseptic, and Snape pointed out one that he'd made himself. 

After following him into a room not unlike her kitchen (with far fewer appliances), Hermione instructed him to remove his outer cloak, at which he nearly protested. She shut him up with a glare that he himself could be proud of, and grabbed a clean cloth out of a hamper the house elves had left out for him. After soaking it with hot water she returned to the table where he sat, pulling a chair around to sit in front of him and  _ suggested _ he place his hands on the table so she could disinfect them.

He informed her he was more than capable of cleaning up his own "mess", but she pointedly ignored him, wiping away the blood and feeling his muscles tighten as the hot cloth stung his hand.

"Exactly what  _ ‘personal matters’ _ were you attending to, Professor?" Hermione asked him, continuing to use his title to remind herself of who she was dealing with. She began to apply the anti-septic, making him hesitate before he answered.

"The fact that it was personal makes it my business,  _ Professor _ Granger," he replied.

Hermione met his eyes. "Then look me in the eyes and tell me it had nothing to do with me."

Snape blinked and hesitated a fraction of a second before replying smoothly, "It had nothing to do with you."

Hermione sighed, returning her attention to his other hand. "You know, I may not be as skilled a Legilimens as you are, but I can tell when someone is lying to me." She finished the remainder of her work in silence, bandaging his hands when she was done and clearing away her mess. "You'll want to see Madam Pomfrey if you'd like it to heal faster," she informed him.

He nodded, eager for her to take her leave, but she merely stood in his kitchen with her arms cross, staring at him impatiently.

"I'm waiting," she told him.

“ _ Professor _ Granger, it’s well after midnight. Surely it would be wise to continue this once we’ve both had the benefit of rest?”

Hermione tightened her arms across her chest, barely resisting the urge to tap her foot in defiance. “Out with it already.”

He sighed deeply, and after a moment lifted his body to lead her into the sitting room so they'd be more comfortable. What he had to share was not uplifting news.

His sitting room was in part as dark and gloomy as she’d expected. The walls were a dark grey, interspersed with decorative lighting and some artwork that she’d like to spend more time exploring at a later date. The couch he gestured for her to sit on was a deep green with silver and gold etchings into the fabric. There was a slight dip to the cushion on the right; she imagined him sitting here in the evenings, his long legs propped up on the table and a whisky in one hand as he graded students’ papers.

It was an image she had to force out of her mind to focus on what would surely be an unpleasant conversation. 

She sat down, expecting him to sit on the couch beside her, but he chose a chair across from her instead. After a painful minute of silence, she prodded, "Okay, let's have it. What was this all about?" She was pretty sure she knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it from him ... almost as much as she didn't want to know.

He leaned his elbows on the arms of the chair, bringing his fingertips together as he contemplated where to begin. "I visited Azkaban this evening," he began trepidatiously. He wasn’t altogether sure whether he could expect to be pummeled by her fists again this evening.

Hermione nodded, flaring her nostrils. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest. "And ...?"

Snape looked carefully into her eyes from where he sat. "And one of the men who assaulted you is an inmate there."

Hermione shut her eyes, feeling her heart thudding in her chest. It was several seconds before she reminded herself to breathe, and she exhaled in a rush of air.

"He has been given a lengthy sentence for unrelated crimes, he won't be getting out any time soon," Snape assured her.

Hermione nodded, looking at the ground. "Okay ... so he's already being punished in the eyes of the law. End of story."

Snape shook his head. "I'm afraid there’s more."

Hermione’s heart clenched. A part of her - most of her, really - wanted him to stop talking ... she didn't want to know any more. But she had made him talk in the first place, so she stuck it out.

Snape ran a thumb over the bandages she’d placed on his wounds, struck by her strength and delicate touch. She would need much of the former. "I ... interrogated the inmate about the identity of the other man who was with him the night of the ... the night of your birthday, and after some time and persuasion, he informed me that the other man is also at Azkaban."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. They were both behind bars. She didn't have to deal with any of it any more … the niggling fear in the back of her mind that she would one day turn a corner or enter a shop, and they would be there. Or the often worse imaginings of them somehow finding her again, and not being able to stop them. Or the unthinkable … them finding out about Samantha … No. None of it mattered anymore. They were locked up, and she could put the memory of what they’d done to her, what they’d  _ taken _ from her, behind her. Pretend as though it never happened.

"Okay ... so they're both imprisoned," she finally responded, a rush of relieved breath flowing from her lungs. “That’s … that’s really good. Thank you.”

Snape slowly shook his head, wishing he could leave it at that. "The second man is not an inmate."

Hermione glanced up at him. "What do you mean? How can he be there if he's not a prisoner?"

Snape held her gaze. "He is a member of the wizarding staff employed at Azkaban. He works there."

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So … that happened. Have I mentioned I enjoy cliffhangers? :D
> 
> Also, as you can probably guess this fic is not going to contain the nicest version of Ron. When I originally wrote this, Ron was my least favorite character. He is also not going to be the hero of this story. That said … my opinion on some characters has changed in the last decade. As I continue to update this story, his initial arc may change from my original posting, but it will not in any way change the Snape/Hermione pairing. I’ll just be … slightly less cruel to him. Maybe … ;)


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione suffers an anxiety attack, and Snape lays out his plan to bring her attacker(s) to justice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was writing this chapter, I discovered the dates in my timeline were skewed by a year, as well as what Hermione’s age was when she would have been attacked (rookie mistake, I know). That has since been updated. For the purposes of clarification: Hermione was assaulted on her 19th birthday, and she is 23 now, with just a few weeks before her 24th birthday.

It had been many years since Hermione Granger had experienced an anxiety attack. She'd had them quite frequently when she was young, and several times at Hogwarts when she was worried about her grades. The last time she’d experienced one was the night her parents kicked her out, and she ended up at the Burrow, with Harry, Ron, and Ginny trying desperately to calm her down. 

~

_ She remembered, like it was yesterday, Molly Weasley shooing them all away, taking her face between her warm and weathered hands. The older woman had forced Hermione to look into her eyes, speaking slowly and softly.  _

_ “Hermione dear, just breathe. You are going to be okay.” _

_ The 19-year old girl shook her head back and forth vigorously, struggling to breathe and speak. “I won’t … I can’t … they tossed me … like garbage … I can’t …” _

_ Molly wrapped her arms around the sobbing girl, willing her to take some of her strength and wishing she could string the Grangers up and feed them to the ghoul in the attic. “You listen to me, Hermione. You are not in this alone. You hear me? You are one of the strongest, most capable young women that I know. You have faced Death Eaters and snatchers and all manner of evil in this world, and you came out of it every single time. There is nothing you can’t do.” _

_ Hermione desperately wanted to believe her; tried to focus on her words, but her brain kept replaying her father’s words, her mother’s cruel looks, their impossible ultimatum. Every minute of her assault had been burned into her mind, keeping her up day and night, worse once she’d found out she was pregnant. No part of her was capable of terminating the life growing inside of her … but how could she take care of it? How could she be a fit mother, when she was such a horrific disappointment of a daughter? _

_ She must have voiced some of this in her panicked state, because Mrs. Weasley released her from the hug she’d trapped her in to hold her firmly by the shoulders.  _

_ “Hermione Granger, you listen to me. You. Have. Done. Nothing. Wrong. There is nothing that will change what has been done to you, but the only one who gets to decide what happens next is you. And you, my dear child, are the furthest thing from a disappointment. I know your heart, Hermione, and whatever happens with this child, we are here with you. Every step of the way. Now breathe with me.” _

_ Hermione gasped in a shuddering breath, blinking through her tears and trying to focus on Molly’s words.  _

_ Harry and Ron stood on either side of Hermione, crouching and kneeling beside her, their hands grasping hers, sharing their strength and friendship when she needed it most.  _

_ “We’re not going anywhere, Hermione,” Harry assured her, squeezing her hand. “We’ll help you … with whatever you need.” _

_ “You can stay with us as long as you need to,” Ron promised. “Sod your folks. You’ll always have a place with us.” _

_ Ginny echoed his sentiment, dropping beside her mother and gripping Hermione’s shoulder with her, assuring her that she wasn’t alone.  _

_ “Breathe … that’s it, girl,” Molly cooed. “In and out. One breath at a time. One day at a time. You will get through this. Breathe. I’ve got you, love. I’ve got you.” _

_ ~ _

This anxiety attack hit her like a freight train, and she fell to her hands and knees on Snape's carpeted floor, trying desperately to control her breathing.

Not knowing what to do or how to help, Snape shoved his coffee table to the side and knelt beside her, placing an unsure hand on her back and trying to speak to her.

"Miss Granger ... Professor Granger, can you hear me? You need to calm down," he tried, but it was useless.

Tears fell from Hermione's eyes as her body shook, and her hand moved of its own accord to the larger one on the carpet beside her. She didn't entirely register that it was Snape's hand, but she clutched it with her smaller one and tried to focus on that instead of her world crashing around her.

_ Breathe _ , Molly’s voice echoed in her mind, and she tried desperately to cling to it.

Snape wanted to pull his hand away, but he figured it must be helping her, so he let her squeeze as hard as she needed to.

She turned her hand so it was in line with his, then slid her fingers between his, gripping the underside of his hand with her fingertips. 

_ Breathe, _ she told herself, over and over.  _ You can’t change the past, only what choices you make now.  _

The minutes ticked by, the two adults trapped together on the floor as she worked through the chaos in her brain. A few stray teardrops fell on their clenched hands, but Hermione was slowly beginning to come down from her attack.

A few tense minutes later, her breathing had returned close to normal, and she shakily wiped her eyes with her free hand.

"How could this happen?" she asked him with a tremor in her voice. "How could someone like  _ him _ get that kind of a job? He's a Death Eater ... how could no one have noticed?"

Snape carefully pulled her hair away from her damp face with his free left hand, not knowing how to comfort her. "I don't know how it happened. But I assure you I will put an end to it. I have the memories that I extracted from you ... we can have him put away for the rest of his life."

Hermione glanced over at him beside her on the floor, not noticing or acknowledging their intimate position on the floor of his sitting room, or that they were still 'holding hands'. "I don't think I can ... I don't want to see him. I don't want to see either of them," she told him.

Snape sighed. "More than you want him to get away with what he did?"

Hermione practically growled, dropping her head down and staring at her knees while her hair curtained down around her. "He's  _ been _ getting away with it for the last 4 years! Don’t you understand that? What difference does it make anymore?" She just wanted to forget any of it ever happened. She wanted Samantha, but none of the memories.

He lifted the hand he’d placed on her back and used it to pull her hair over her shoulder so her face was no longer hidden from him, and - after a moment's hesitation - grasped her chin softly in his fingers and turned her head to face him. "The difference is: if you don't do something, he could and would do it to someone else. He may already have done so. Samantha is … an exceptional child, and you have been an impeccable mother to her. But … how many other  _ Samantha’s _ could be out there? How many other witches? How many more might there be if he’s not stopped -"

He felt her jaw clench repeatedly under his fingers, then she rolled her eyes back and groaned. "Enough!" she gritted out, turning her head to glare at him. “Damn you … I’ll do it.”

He allowed a half-smile to grace his features, relieved that he’d gotten through.

Hermione finally had her breathing completely under control, and felt a sense of calm after committing to going after the men who'd attacked her. Along with the calm, she suddenly became aware of the sensations all over her body. The first being her that her knees were getting sore. His carpet was nice to the touch, but too thin. The next thing she noticed was that her fingers were locked around his hand, and that his own fingers had curled themselves around hers as well. Third, she noticed that his calloused - but not altogether unpleasant - hand was still holding her chin softly. Finally, she realized that for some strange reason, she had yet to move away from his touch.

Her eyes locked onto his as her breath hitched in her throat, and she felt her skin growing hot. All of a sudden she had too much saliva in her mouth, and the resulting swallow felt too much like a gulp. She felt like she did when he'd pulled her out of the hall and into an empty classroom, and she'd gotten into his face while ranting about her mother. She felt like she had when they’d shared that look at the lake, after she’d sung and he looked at her like he wanted more. She felt like she had when he walked her home after going out for drinks, and she'd hit him for looking at her memories without permission ... when she'd pushed herself up on her tip-toes so she could reach his ...

Hermione’s heartbeat quickened once more, but for a very different reason than her recent anxiety.  _ Oh my, _ Hermione thought as everything clicked into place.  _ I can't believe I didn't realize ... should probably make a quick exit before he realizes that I ... yeah, I really gotta go. _

"I … I should probably get going," she breathed in a whisper, loosening her hand on top of his. A second later he straightened his fingers, allowing her to pull her hand away. The one holding her chin dropped back to his side as she straightened his back and rose to his feet.

He extended his hand to help her up, and after a quick glance into his eyes she accepted the offer and placed her soft hand in his, standing up.

"So, I guess we'll talk later ... about how to proceed," Hermione suggested.

Snape nodded, giving her hand a shake to justify holding it with his for a moment longer. "We both have patrol tomorrow night ... we could discuss it then."

"Right. Okay, then," she replied, giving his hand an awkward squeeze before pulling away and walking past his ‘kitchen’ to the front door. Opening the door, she was halfway out when she spoke, "I'll see you tomorrow, Professor."

He dipped his head in goodbye, watching her close the door and wondering what the hell had happened.

Hermione was nearly at her rooms before she realized she'd left her cloak behind. She thought about returning for it, but couldn't make herself turn around. She had to get out of there and think.

...

Hermione thanked Dobby for watching Samantha and he popped back to the kitchens with a deep bow. She stepped slowly into her daughter's room, making her way to the rocking chair beside her bed. Careful not to wake her snoring daughter, Hermione settled into the chair, watching her sleep while her own mind was racing.

So much to comprehend in one night. She didn't want to deal with the realization of certain feelings for the Potions Professor, so she focused on the part of the evening with very different consequences. … In less than a week he'd sought out and found the men who'd attacked her, when no one else had been able to do anything with her lack of memory-recall. She wondered what would have happened if she'd thought to use Legilimency.  _ Would I have willingly let anyone see what all had been done to me that night? _ She doubted it.

Reaching for the back of her neck, she traced her finger against the skin covered by the shorter hairs, easily finding the scar they'd left when they'd dragged her across the alley floor to hide her body, cutting her on a sharp rock. Glancing down at her feet, she could still see the slight bend in her third toe on the left foot where they'd broken it in their attempts to … position her correctly.

Her wounds had been taken care of by a muggle doctor - she'd been unconscious when someone had found her - and as a result didn't heal as quickly or as thoroughly as they would have if a medi-witch had healed her.

Glancing down at her sleeping daughter's precious face, Hermione forced the pain of that night out of her mind, and thought about what Snape was offering. Not only the chance to put away the man who'd gotten away with assaulting her, but being able to stop him from ever doing it to anyone else ever again. It was more than tempting.

She tried not to think about what her life would have been life if she'd never had Samantha. Under those circumstances, at least. She might have become an Auror along with Harry, or she may have gone on to continue her education at some advanced school for either witches or muggles. For a person with her capacity and thirst for learning, she truly could have done anything ... but as she looked down at the little girl who resembled her so much, she couldn't make herself long for the life she could have had.

"I will not make ‘putting  _ him _ away’ about fixing my life," Hermione whispered, leaning her head back on the cushion of the rocking chair and slipping into a much needed slumber.

...

Hermione got through her classes the next day in anxious anticipation of the discussion she would be having with Snape that night. They acknowledged each other briefly throughout the day, but it wasn't until he left the staff table after supper that he slipped her a note telling her when and where to meet him.

Dobby expressed his gratitude once more at being given such an important and trustworthy task of "babysitting" while she did her rounds, and Hermione was grateful he saw it that way. She had arranged with Minerva at the start of her employment that she would pay for any services enlisted of the House Elves for Samantha’s care out of her own earnings, but she still wished there was more she could give the elf she’d known since her own childhood. She made plans to knit him a new set of hats and mittens for Christmas.

Hermione made her way to the third floor corridor, the very same one that they as students had been warned against going near. As she paced the hall, she found herself wondering what had become of Fluffy ... if Hagrid had been forced to get rid of him, if he now lived in the Forbidden Forest, or if he still lived somewhere within the castle. Surely Minerva would not allow such a creature to roam freely where unsuspecting students might come across him.

She had reached the end of the hall, lost in her thoughts, and turned around to continue her pacing only to run into a brick wall resembling that of Professor Snape.

"Goodness!" Hermione hissed, stepping back. "Would it kill you to make noise when you walk?"

Snape tilted his head with a light smirk. "Habit."

Hermione sighed. "Right ... of course."

"Shall we?" Snape spoke, motioning for them to walk.

Hermione nodded stiffly, trepidation settling in. "I suppose."

They began their patrol of the halls, but he had chosen to start their evening in a place where students rarely visited at night. Now that it was no longer off-limits, students seldom sought it out after hours.

"Okay, so ... how do you want to do this?" Hermione started.

"Well, obviously the spell they placed on you is still intact, and very powerful. I doubt I'll be able to remove it, as I was not the one to cast it, and the precise incantation was not completely discernable from your memories," he explained.

"So, I still won't be able to physically identify him?" she concluded.

"Not necessarily," Snape corrected. "I believe I've found a way to work around the spell."

Hermione glanced over at him while they walked. "Okay, I'm listening."

Snape crossed his hands behind his back. "It might be possible to store your memories in a pensieve," he suggested.

Hermione shook her head. "I already tried that. Arthur Weasley suggested it when I couldn't give a description to the magical law enforcement officers, but it didn't work. The spell prevented it, I suppose."

Snape nodded. "I expected as much, but as you may recall, I was able to access those memories."

Hermione looked down in embarrassment. "Well, I must admit, I honestly never thought to have someone use Legilimency on me. I don't understand though ... would it be enough evidence for you to pull the memory of seeing it in my mind out of your mind? Couldn't they just say it was a false or tampered-with memory?" She thought back to when Harry told her of what Slughorn had done.

Snape answered, "I won't be extracting the memory from my mind. I would pull it from yours, but while our minds are linked ... it's complicated, but I think it can be done. I believe that my presence in the extraction will enable it to be successful, so long as I am experiencing the memory while it is being extracted."

Hermione faltered in her steps. She was not particularly looking forward to him seeing everything all over again, but if he thought it would work, she didn't know what other choice she had. "When do you want to do it?" she asked him.

Snape turned to look at her, his hands clasped carefully behind his back. "Whenever you feel ready."

Hermione just wanted it over and done with. "Tomorrow night?"

Snape was silent for a moment before nodding his head and continuing their patrol, not saying anything when she walked alongside him instead of returning to the route she'd been assigned.

They continued in relative silence, Hermione’s thoughts running rampant between the possibility of bringing her assailants to justice, and just what effect linking their minds together once again might have on her burgeoning feelings for the Potions Master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know ... still no kiss. Might be coming soon though ... might.
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments. 
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samantha and Hermione share a morning together by the lake before exploring the Room of Requirement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might be my shortest one yet. 
> 
> Also, 19-year old me really thought she was being clever using words like “saxicolous”.

Hermione had no classes the following morning, which meant Samantha got to pick their Morning Adventure. It was a routine she’d established the previous year when work began taking her away from her daughter for longer stretches of time, she came up with “Morning Adventures”. 

On days when Hermione had a late-start shift, Samantha could pick the place or activity, and as long as it could be done in less than two hours and without breaking the proverbial bank, they would do it. Feeding pigeons in the park, making yogurt cookie milkshakes (not for the faint of heart), gardening with Auntie Molly, pajama day fort parties, snorkeling at the public pool, balloon splatter painting, etc. Some of her fondest memories with Samantha were their Morning Adventures.

Unsurprisingly, Samantha’s choice for their first Morning Adventure at Hogwarts was to visit the giant squid, or “Squidsy”, as she’d taken to calling him. They made for the lake after breakfast and Hermione attempted to describe the different types of saxicolous lichen to her curious daughter. The only way to dissuade her from trying to touch the slimy rocks was by suggesting they try to lure out the giant squid again.

The next half hour was filled with Hermione singing and Samantha watching with wide eyes, and then giggling with glee when the squid came to the surface of the water to play. Samantha would grab a small stick and toss it in the water, and after a few seconds the squid would wrap one of its many tentacles around it and lob it back to her. Samantha would squeal with excitement and the squid would drop back under the water, causing the three-year old to tug on her mother's sweater and plead with her to sing some more.

Hermione watched her daughter grow more and more excited, and the squid seemed to respond in kind. When he tossed the stick back to her, it started getting further and further away. Samantha would trot away from her mother to retrieve the stick, but then she would have to return to her mother to throw it back. Finally, the stick landed too far behind them for Samantha to find it with Hermione still being able to see her, and Hermione suggested to Samantha that maybe they let the squid have a rest now, but the little girl didn't want that. Hermione held Samantha gently on her lap, trying to get her to settle down. 

Samantha glanced at the spot where the stick had fallen out of sight, and after a moment, Hermione heard a whipping sound. She turned her head to see the stick soaring through the air and watched with surprised eyes as the stick fell into the lake.

Samantha clapped happily, waiting for the squid to return it.

Hermione knew that magical children often showed signs of their magic at an early age, but to see it for herself was a rather out-of-body experience. Samantha, for her part, didn't seem to notice that anything spectacular had happened.

‘Squidsy’ tossed the small stick back and forth with the enamored girl a few more times before sinking down into the lake, leaving nothing but a trail of bubbles in the water to show its departure. Samantha was disappointed, but waved goodbye before turning to her mother once again. "Now what will we do, Mummy?" the girl wondered, looking up at her curiously.

Hermione blinked. "Um ... we're going to have tea with Uncle Hagrid now, Sweetie."

Samantha smiled in excitement, rushing to make her way towards Hagrid’s hut.

Hermione pushed her surprise to the back of her mind, storing it away for later so she could join her daughter in their trek across the grounds.

Hagrid welcomed them happily, drawing them into the house and pulling out seats for the two girls. Since their last visit he had tried to find a more suitable cup for Samantha, and ended up using the dish that held his sugars, giving her a spoon to use instead of sipping. Samantha didn't mind, pretending she was eating soup instead of drinking tea.

Hermione remembered to ask Hagrid what had happened to Fluffy, and he told her with tear-filled eyes that Dumbledore had decided that Fluffy would be too dangerous to be let out, and Hagrid hadn't wanted to keep him cooped up, so they'd found him a home close to where Charlie had taken  _ Norberta _ , so that Hagrid could visit them both when he was able. He’d sadly passed away just two years ago. Samantha asked why Uncle Hagrid was so sad, and while Hagrid worked to compose himself, Hermione explained that he missed his old puppy.

Samantha pushed her tea bowl aside and crawled onto the half-giant’s lap, reaching her short arms around as much of his large chest as she could and giving him as big of a hug as she could manage. Hagrid patted her back - gently - and thanked her for the kindness as he dabbed his eyes with a hand towel. 

Once he pulled himself together again, Samantha hopped down and went to play with Fang. The old bloodhound resigned himself to trotting about the small hut with the little girl on his back as Hermione chatted with Hagrid, ready to lunge the moment it looked like Samantha might fall off.

They had finished the morning tea with Hagrid and were on their way back to the school when Hermione found herself struck with the urge to brag about her daughter's recent use of wandless magic. She thought about going back to tell Hagrid, but he had already begun making his way into the Forbidden Forest to prepare for his first class of the day. The next person that entered her mind was Severus. He had second-years first thing in the -  _ whoa, when did I start calling him Severus? _

Hermione got lost in thoughts of heated gazes and clasped hands, and didn't hear the person coming up behind her until it was too late.

"Boo!" the voice exclaimed and Hermione jumped, gripping Samantha's hand and pulling her behind her as she whipped around in fright.

"Blimey, Hermione, it's just me," Ron assured her, reaching his hand out to pat her shoulder.

Hermione casually pulled away under the guise of adjusting her footing and bringing Samantha back around from behind her.

"Uncle Ron, you scared us!" Samantha admonished, frowning and giving him her best "Molly" look.

Ron pursed his lips, redding at the ears. "Um, sorry Squirt," he replied.

Samantha sighed, looking up at her mother with defeated eyes that said ‘ _ he’s doing it again _ ’. She hated it when her Uncle Ron called her "Squirt". It made her feel like a baby who peed in her pants.

Hermione understood her daughter’s frustration, but seized the opportunity to ease the awkwardness by telling Ron of her daughter's magical experience.

"Guess who levitated a stick today?" she asked him with a barely contained smile and a slight bounce in her step.

Ron looked at her with a confused expression on his face. "Um ... you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, nudging her head down exaggeratedly at her daughter.

There was a three-second long pause before it clicked for Ron, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. "For real?"

Hermione nodded emphatically.

"Wow!" Ron exclaimed, bending down to lift Samantha up. "Good for you, Samantha!"

Samantha had no idea what he was so excited about, but she went with it, happy that he wasn't calling her ‘Squirt’. 

Ron hoisted the little girl into the air and maneuvered her so that she was sitting atop his shoulders, and together they walked into the school.

"So, what are you doing here, Ron?" Hermione asked while they walked up the front steps.

"Thought I'd come by for a visit," he explained simply.

Hermione looked at him suspiciously out of the corner of her eye. "Well, how did you know I wouldn't have a class?"

Ron shrugged with effort. "It came up when I was talking to Ginny."

Hermione nodded, feeling ambushed and awkward. She valued her friendship with Ron, but sometimes he just … well, he wasn’t the most receptive.

… 

They wandered around the school for the better part of the hour, with Hermione steering the conversation away from anything excessively personal. They chatted about the students that she taught, took a trip down memory lane while they walked to familiar places, like the Room of Requirement. Hermione had been wanting to show Samantha the Room of Requirement since they'd arrived, and as they walked back and forth in front of it, she thought hard about a place that Samantha would enjoy.

When they finally entered the room, Hermione was amazed at what was inside. She hadn't actually made any specific decisions about what she'd wanted in the room, she had simply wanted something that would interest and entertain her daughter.

The walls were a surprisingly pleasant mixture of green, red, silver and gold; the colors danced around each other and curled together, and on the roof they became an explosion of fireworks. 

On the floor was a giant music box as big as Ron, with a tall, faceless man in a dark, black suit holding a slender woman in a flowing, white dress with long, brown curls cascading around her featureless face. The figures danced around as the music box played soft, happy music. Past the large music box was an assortment of toys for Samantha to play with. There was a pile of smaller toys for her to play with, and in each corner was a large, stuffed lion and a long, green snake. Against the side wall on the left was a kiddy pool with an enchanted, toy "giant" squid playing and splashing around.

Samantha squirmed and slid off Ron's shoulders, jumping down the last little bit so she could run and play with the toys. She waved at the squid playing in the water and ran to the back of the room to pick up a toy, then went over to the pool to give the toy to the squid. From there, she ran to one of the corners with the stuffed snakes and picked one up, tucking the "neck" under her arm so she could pat the head while she walked, dragging the rest behind her. She circled around the giant music box a couple of times, smiling up at the two figures dancing happily to the music. Oblivious to the wide-eyed staring of the two adults in the room, Samantha climbed up on the music box and swayed back and forth with the large figurines, draping the snake over their arms and trying to wrap her hands around their arms so she could dance with them.

The dancing figures might be faceless, but the man’s height and wardrobe bore a striking, unmistakable resemblance to a certain Potions Professor, and though she’d try to deny it if she could, there was no doubt that the dancing woman was meant to be her.

Hermione watched the scene before her with her hand over her mouth, trying and failing to hide her surprise - and guilt - while watching her daughter unintentionally bring to light her unspoken desires, while she stood next to a man who was all too often unable to accept the finality of their ended relationship.

_ Oh, dear. _

… 

"Exactly how  _ friendly _ have you been with Snape?" Ron demanded to know, hands on his hips and whispering quietly enough so as not to be heard over the sound of the giant music box. He watched Hermione’s daughter dance with a ceramic likeness of Snape that appeared far too real for comfort, and his insides contorted unpleasantly.

Hermione felt her heart rate speeding up and hoped she wasn't flushed. "Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?"

Ron motioned to the entire room with his hands, coming to a stop pointing vigorously at the life-sized music box. "Come on, Hermione. Do I really need to explain?"

Hermione scratched her head awkwardly, willing away the flush that threatened to creep up her neck at the visage of herself and Severus dancing.. "Look, I just wanted the room to suit her interests ... she's probably just being drawn into all the Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry ... and I just gave her my old music box a few days ago. It’s fresh in her mind.” She hoped it wasn’t painfully obvious that she was grasping at straws. “She’s  _ three _ , Ron. It's nothing.”

He looked back at her, seemingly unwilling to believe that the possibility that something so simple could actually be true. "So, there's nothing going on between you and Snape?"

Hermione looked over at her daughter, avoiding the question. She wasn’t even ready to be this honest with herself about any feelings she had for the man, never mind with her ex-boyfriend. "Seriously, Ronald, what do you think?"

Ron breathed a sigh of relief. "Huh. Well .... that’s good. I don't know what I was thinking, ‘Mione."

Hermione rubbed her hand on the back of her neck, trying to sort through her thoughts.  _ This is certainly a Morning Adventure for the books. _

"Mummy, come play with me!" Samantha called out from in between the two dancing figures.

Hermione stepped away from Ron to join her daughter, a million thoughts buzzing through her head, and no idea how to make them form into one coherent idea. She kept her eyes on her daughter, not wanting to deal with the Severus Snape lookalike that her daughter was so visibly pleased with, or the way her heart continued to flop at the way the dancing figures so delicately and easily held hands.

_ How is this my life? _

… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely a shorter chapter than most. 
> 
> Next chapter: Snape delves into Hermione's mind ... possibly sees some things she doesn't want him to.
> 
> Also, because I’m 50% evil and 50% feeling guilty about having such a short chapter, I’ve been going through and peeking ahead at what’s left to update, and no spoilers or anything, but … chapter 25? Oof. My heart. I got teary re-reading it.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione lets Snape into her mind to extract the memory of her assault, trying not to let him discover anything else along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are no trigger warnings for this chapter, but there will be for the next.

Hermione paced around her kitchen, checking the clock every twenty seconds or so. She knew that Severus wouldn't be late, but she didn't know if he would be early. The rest of the school day had gone by in a blur, and she had barely suffered through dinner with the pit of anxiety that was clustered in her stomach in anticipation of what tonight would bring.

She had asked Harry and Ginny to take Samantha that night, telling them she would explain later. She hadn't wanted Samantha to be in the next room if something should happen. They had dropped off Crookshanks when they'd picked up Samantha, and he was currently giving her the silent treatment while sniffing out his new home.

She had just checked the clock one more time when she heard a knock at the door and nearly jumped out of her own skin in surprise. Forcing air slowly out of her nose to try and calm herself she smoothed her hands down her stomach and moved to open the door.

"Hello," she greeted nervously, leaning against the open door.

Snape tipped his head in response, glancing behind her as he waited to be invited him in.

“Sorry!” she took the hint and held the door open wider, allowing him entrance and feeling her heart rate immediately quicken. She so hoped she wouldn't have another panic attack. Closing the door behind him, she wondered aloud, "Would you like a drink or anything?"

He turned, shaking his head. It was then that she noticed he was holding her folded up robes in his hands.

"Oh, right ... thanks," she said, taking the garment from his hands.

"This is becoming a habit," he half-joked, reminding her of when he'd left his robes in her rooms the night he'd helped her set up her furniture. That felt like a lifetime ago.

"Right," Hermione replied with a stilted chuckle. "We should really stop doing that." She took the robes and placed them on the hook by the door, fiddling with them for longer than necessary as an excuse to do something with her hands. "Are you sure I can't get you anything to drink?" Hermione asked again.

"Miss Granger ... if you are uncomfortable, we can try this another time," Snape suggested, her discomfort readily apparent.

Hermione shook her head quickly. "No, I want to get this done with ... I'm just nervous."

Snape nodded. "Understandable. We can take some time for you to prepare before we start. It’s best for your mind to be clear and settled before we begin."

Hermione took several slow, calming breaths before looking up at the man waiting patiently in her kitchen. "Okay, so where should we do this?"

Snape looked around. "Wherever you'd feel most comfortable."

Hermione reasoned that she'd feel most comfortable in her pajamas in bed, but that was the last thing she wanted to be thinking about at the present moment, and she forced the thought out of her head as quickly as it had arrived. "Um ... the sitting room couch?"

Snape nodded his agreement, following behind her as she moved into the other room slowly.

Hermione glanced down at the couch before sitting down awkwardly, waiting for her colleague to simply begin. She wanted the entire ordeal to be done and over with.

Snape took his time removing his outer robe and pulling out of his pocket a pair of vials.

"Are we going to have to do this more than once?" Hermione asked him nervously.

"No," Snape replied, shaking his head. "I always carry a spare, just in case."

Hermione nodded, playing with her fingers. "That's practical, I suppose."

Snape sighed, sitting down beside Hermione on the couch so that he was facing her. Watching her pick at her fingers made him want to grasp them with his own hand, but he refrained. "This will not work unless you are calm and relaxed. You are going to need to let me into your mind, to become a part of your own mind so that I can extract the memory. This will be more invasive and intense than the last time I used legilimency on you.” He needed her to be prepared for just how different this was going to be, just how present he would be inside her mind. “Take as long as you need to center yourself and prepare for this. I can answer any questions you have … or sit here silently, if that’s what you prefer."

Hermione nodded again. He was being so patient, but surely he must be getting frustrated with her nerves.  _ Pull yourself together, Hermione. Just get it done. _ She steadied her breaths as best as she could, rolling her shoulder and stretching the tension out of her neck. She forced herself to go over her lesson plans for the week inside her mind, needing something unemotional and rote to focus her mind. After a few minutes had passed she felt reasonably able to begin. "Okay, so what do I do? Just think about that night?"

Snape shook his head. "Not right away. I believe that in order for this to work, I'll need to enter your mind before you access that memory, and then guide you towards the memory. Otherwise the result will be no different than when you attempted to extract your own memories."

Hermione bobbed her head, agreeing internally that it did make sense. Though, she didn't entirely love the idea of Snape steering his way through her mind, especially with the recent discovery she'd made. "You'll enter my mind, and then seek out the memory?"

Snape nodded. "Yes, that is the intention."

"You won't see anything else?" Hermione wanted to clarify, suddenly nervous for a very different reason.

Snape quirked an eyebrow at her nervousness.  _ I'm about to see her being raped and abused in the most vulgar way... what else could she possibly be so embarrassed about? _ "Well, working my way through your mind won't be quite as simple as that. I have to find my way through different memories and moments until I find the right one."

Hermione's face fell at this, and Snape further elaborated, "If you are afraid I will uncover something embarrassing or revealing, I assure you that I will not comment on it. Your personal moments are yours alone."

Hermione hoped he meant that, and waited a few minutes until she felt relaxed enough to proceed.

"Just try not to think about a particular moment, and try not to resist me," Snape coaxed, not understanding the double meaning of his words or the effect he was actually having on her. “Let the memories develop naturally, and understand that we will be silent observers to these moments. Our presence can not change them.”

Hermione nodded, letting him know she was ready for him to enter her mind. A moment passed, she felt a fuzzy sensation in the back of her mind, and then suddenly her memories and thoughts splayed out before her in her mind's eye.

It was definitely different this time. Whereas before, she’d realized that he’d been inside her mind only after he’d pulled away, now she was all too aware of his presence. They stood together, side by side, as strings of thought inside her mind became tangible scenes. 

The first and foremost topic in her mind was Samantha, which came as no surprise to either of them. What did surprise Hermione was that she was now reliving the moment she'd given birth. 

Hermione watched with wincing eyes as her younger self cried out in pain, frustration, exhaustion, and finally relief as her baby girl was born. She and Snape both took in her utterly spent appearance. Though she couldn’t help a loving smiling from gracing her features at the sight of her newborn daughter, Hermione also couldn’t help cringing at both the sight of the blood and birthing fluids that covered the bedding beneath her, and the hair she’d cut so awfully short in an attempt to look and feel different than the girl who’d been victimized by strangers. She noticed Snape shifting uncomfortably beside her in her mind,but didn't break eye contact with him outside of her mind, simply waiting for him to move on to the next memory. If he stayed on track with Samantha, maybe he wouldn't delve into the fact that she had realized her feelings for him.

Just like that, the scene changed and they were brought back to the memory of Snape hauling her into the empty closet to calm her down after her mother had shown up. She saw herself invading his personal space out of anger, pressing herself up on her toes, but before the memory could reveal anything more personal or damning, the memory shifted, bringing her to the moment she, Samantha, and Ron had entered the Room of Requirement. Just as the dancing figurines were coming into focus, Hermione broke eye contact, severing the link of their minds.

Snape felt himself expelled from her mind, blinking a few times to regain his bearings. "What happened?" he asked her.

"Sorry," Hermione spoke quietly, feeling the flush creep up her neck. "I forgot to not look away. I had a ... crick in my neck."  _ Oh Merlin, he can probably see right through that. _

Snape narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. "Do you wish to continue?"

Hermione nodded slowly, taking a deep breath.  _ You can do this, Hermione. Clear your mind. _

He pressed himself back into her mind once more, staring into her honey-brown eyes as he worked through the memories. He'd gathered that there was something about the last memory that she hadn't wanted him to see, and while part of him was deeply curious about the memories she wanted to keep hidden from him, he fought against himself to respect her privacy and moved on.

The next moment they viewed together featured Samantha again. She was standing on short, shaky legs, and Hermione was standing behind her with her arms stretched out, prepared to catch her if she fell. Samantha - who appeared to be a little under a year old by the fact that she was much shorter, a bit more round and pudgy, and had less hair than she did now - moved her right foot forwards with great effort and took an unsteady step forwards. 

Memory-Hermione beamed down at her daughter, working hard to contain her squeal of joy, but unable to keep the bright smile off of her face. Inside her mind, Snape was struck by the way that smile lit up her entire face, filling it with a warmth and joy that just seemed so … natural on her, despite what he knew of the circumstances that led to this moment they were observing together.

Snape noticed that Hermione's hair was a bit longer here than it had been in the memory of her giving birth, and for some reason he found that oddly comforting. As the two Granger girls both grew, the evidence of what had happened to Hermione visibly began to fade.

"Samantha's first steps," Hermione whispered without breaking eye contact.

Severus said nothing, allowing the memories to progress and get closer to what they'd come for. He seemed to be going on the right track, and Hermione was both terrified of and thankful for that.

Memory-Hermione was now roughly 36 weeks pregnant and her stomach was sufficiently enlarged. She waddled around the Burrow with a pad of paper and a quill in her hands, writing words down only to scratch them out moments later.

"Still haven't decided on a name yet?" Arthur Weasley asked as he walked into the room and Hermione smiled sadly.

"Not yet," Hermione admitted. "Nothing seems quite … right."

The man who thought of her as his own daughter sat down on the couch in the living room, pulling the bits of clothing and household baubles that were scattered there off of it and patting the seat next to him for her to sit down. With some effort and creative bending, Hermione managed to sit relatively comfortably, laying a protecting hand over her enlarged stomach. She could feel her child shifting about inside of her.

"You know, when Molly was pregnant with Bill, we had the hardest time deciding on a name for him," he told her. "Molly wanted to name him after me, and call him Artie, but I of course knew there was bound to be some confusion when she got mad at either of us, and decided to call out 'Arthur Weasley!'” 

Hermione laughed softly at the memory, and his surprisingly accurate impression of Molly’s scornful tone.

“So, after a few months of argument, we finally decided on William. We wanted him to have a strong name, but a name that had some leeway for a nickname ... you know, in case he wanted to go by Will, or Liam, or Billy ..."

Memory-Hermione and Arthur shared a giggle at the idea of calling Bill Weasley 'Billy'.

"The point I'm trying to make dear, is that while a name should be important to you, and should be a strong name ... it doesn't have to be so serious. Find a name that works well no matter if the child is a boy or a girl, and one that you will enjoy ... try not to let it stress you out too much."

Hermione nodded, rubbing her belly absentmindedly. At that moment, she almost wished she had decided to know the sex of the baby before he/she was born, so she could eliminate one half of the possible names. "Thank you, Mr Weasley. That helps."

He nodded, pulling a strand of hair out of her face before he stood up. "You can call me Arthur, Hermione" he told her. "You're a part of this family now."

Hermione nodded, smiling in gratitude as the older man left. She leaned back on the couch, placing the pad of paper on her stomach as she tried to think of a name that was suitable for a boy or a girl. "Just one name," Hermione spoke to the air around her, tapping her quill against the paper.

The baby inside of her kicked extra-hard and Hermione gasped without much thought, "Ow, Sam!" she whined in pain, rubbing her stomach. After a moment she realized what she had said and looked down at her stomach. "Sam ... Samuel?" It was a good, strong name for a boy, and she smiled when she realized it could work for a girl as well. "Samantha ... my little Sammy? … Yes, I think that works quite nicely.  _ Samantha _ ."

The memory grew cloudy as Snape moved on, uncomfortable at witnessing so many of her personal memories. They’d both understood that some level of awkwardness would inevitably occur; he had simply figured she would be the only uncomfortable one.

Snape wasn’t used to feeling so … well, he wasn’t used to  _ feeling so _ . 

He pressed himself past the memory of her parents throwing her out, getting closer and closer to the memory of what was undoubtedly the worst night of her life.

Hermione braced herself when she saw the familiar dark streets and realized with a knot in her stomach that he had finally reached the memory he was looking for. She forced herself to remain as calm as possible as he reached for one of the vials on the table without breaking eye contact with her.

This was it. No turning back.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my shorter chapters, but I wanted to highlight some of Hermione's fondest memories of Samantha before getting into the unpleasantness …
> 
> Please note, the next chapter will include more detail about the night of Hermione’s assault.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape successfully extract the memory of Hermione's assault, her friends discover what Snape has been helping her with, and Hermione introduces Samantha to her parents. What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: this chapter contains another look at Hermione’s sexual assault. I have written this memory in italics and separated it with a “~” symbol. If reading it will cause you emotional distress, feel free to skip the italicized portion. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with this story and for your wonderful reviews. I confess, I had forgotten just how much of a slow burn this story is. We will get there, I promise!

Snape spoke softly as he gripped the vial in his left hand, bringing his wand up with his right. "Remain still, and do not break eye contact. If I lose the memory, we will have to start all over. Be as calm as you can. This will soon be over."

~

_ Hermione wanted nothing more than to look away and hide under her bed covers, but she remained where she was, forcing her eyes to stay caught in his sharp gaze.  _

_ Though she’d anticipated the worst, this was already monumentally worse than when he'd seen it before ... she'd been drunk then, her mind already fuzzy. Now her mind was achingly alert, the scene before them clear and tangible as ever. She could even smell what the air had smelled like that night. The scene began to construct itself around them, more tactile and vivid than she’d experienced in a long time.  _

_ To say that this would be an uncomfortable experience for Snape would be an egregious understatement. His first foray into this memory had been seared into his brain, and even then he'd only seen a little of what they'd done to her. Still, he forced away the lump that threatened to rise up into his own throat, relying on the skills he’d employed for a lifetime of spy work to clear his mind and observe with as much impartiality as he was capable of. _

_ They both watched inside of her mind as her younger self walked down the sidewalk, smiling and thinking about her birthday party, hardly a care in the world. Her mind was distracted, thinking about the internship she’d arranged for the fall and her plans for schooling in the new year, and so she didn't notice anyone else on the seemingly empty streets while she walked by herself. Without warning, she heard the hastily spoken incantation, "petrificus totalus", and she felt her body freeze as still as a statue, unable to stop herself from falling to the ground. _

_ Her mind flooded with panic, finding herself wishing that she'd accepted Ron's offer to walk her home. She wanted to scream, but couldn't open her mouth, or make her vocal chords so much as twitch. She tried using wandless magic to reverse the spell, but a voice penetrated her thoughts, speaking inside of her mind, "You don't want to call for help. You will not reverse the spell." Hermione felt confused, as though she shouldn't be listening to the strange voice, but she couldn't help complying with the demands inside her own mind. She simply lay where she was, waiting for something to happen, dread flooding her frozen body. _

_ One of the men levitated her into a dark alley, lowering her to the ground with no consideration for the state of her body, dropping her the last several inches with a sneer on his ugly face. _

_ The first man began to undress her, while the other whispered a spell that she couldn't make out. Hermione felt a tingling behind that began at the back of her head before drifting into her eyes. It was completely foreign to her, and the sensations began drifting through her entire head until everything was cloudy. She almost felt seasick. The man who'd spoken the spell pushed his partner aside and leaned towards her, his hazel eyes gleaming with evil and malice. As her vision slowly swam into focus again, she could just make out the freckles smattered across his nose and cheeks. _

_ Outside of the memory, Hermione could feel Snape shifting in his seat, but neither of them broke contact. She wondered if this was the man he'd discovered at Azkaban ... the one not already imprisoned. _

_ "When this is over Mudblood, you won't be able to tell anyone who did this to you," the man spoke within her memory, and Hermione forced herself to be still and hold onto the memory so Snape could extract it. Outside of her mind, her fists clenched tightly, her nails digging into her palms. "Now be a good little Mudblood, and open your legs." _

_ As he pried her legs apart with his wand, Hermione felt one of her toes break, but she didn't have to stifle the cry in her throat; it never came. The full body bind saw to that. Tears leaked from her terrified eyes from the pain and humiliation while her body turned deep red. She tried over and over to convince her mind to counter the body bind spell, but she couldn’t fight off the Imperius they’d placed upon her as well. She was forced to silently and passively endure the men’s laughter while they punched, slapped, and otherwise violated her body, invading her and literally tearing into her. _

_ Hermione felt real tears spill from her eyes while she and Snape watched the men rape and beat her for their perverse enjoyment. With every ounce of strength she had, Hermione forced herself to stare into Snape's eyes, knowing there was no way she'd be able to relive this again. It was now or never, and she wanted it done. _

_ She heard a faint growling sound from Snape as the freckled man pulled and sliced off a lock of her hair, tucking it away before continuing to nick and slice random places in her skin to torment and torture her. The cuts weren't deep enough to kill her, and hadn't left many visible scars, but they'd been painful, and the inability to scream out had almost been worse. _

_ Her fists trembled, then clenched tighter. _

~

The memory lasted as long as the event itself had. It was another agonizing twenty-seven minutes before Snape finally pulled out of her mind. The vial had enlarged itself as needed to accommodate the memory; Snape stoppered the vial in silence, giving her time to compose herself.

Hermione grabbed a tissue to wipe at her eyes while Snape tucked the vial into his robes along with the spare. She stood up shakily from the couch, straightening out her clothes and steadying her breath. "Is that all you need?" she spoke unevenly, her voice wavering, hating how meek she sounded to her own ears.

Snape nodded, standing up as well. "This should suffice. I will bring the memory to the Magical Law Enforcement office and have an auror of my discernment arrest him. There should be no need for you to be involved any more than you have to, unless they call you in for the trial."

Hermione nodded, looking away. She had no illusions about the requirement of her involvement in a trial. "Okay ... good."

Snape retrieved his robes from the table by the couch, sliding them on and making sure the vial was secured. He had already placed an unbreakable spell on the glass, so he wasn't too worried, but the effort filled the time as he determined how best to end the evening.

Feeling as though this were a moment where she should be comforted in some way, Snape reached his hand towards her shoulder. "Are you -"

Hermione pulled away from him with a sharp inhale, a flash of unbidden fear in her eyes.

Snape retracted his hand immediately, pressing it to his side. "I apologize," he told her quickly. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Hermione glanced up at the near-hurt expression on his face and felt bad despite the other hundred emotions that were currently running through her. "No, it’s not you … I'm sorry. I'm just … shaken up."

Snape shook his own head. "It is customary for someone who hs experienced sexual assault to fear the members of the opposite sex ... it's only natural that after reliving that experience you might in turn fear my tou- ah, fear  _ me _ ."

Hermione shook her head, her hands and arms a little shaky. Still, she tried to reach for him to prove that she wasn’t afraid of him. 

His eyes were drawn down to the tissue in her hand, stained red. “You’re bleeding,” he noted, his brow furrowing in concern.

She blinked, pulling her hand back to look at it. “Oh … I didn’t realize …” She dabbed at her skin with the tissue she’d used to wipe her tears, noting the little crescent-shaped cuts in both of her palms. She must have clenched her hands so tightly that she’d broken the skin. “It’s fine. I’ll bandage them later.”

Snape thought back to when she’d tended his own wounds, wanting to return the favor, but hesitant to touch her. “I can have a salve sent over with instructions.”

Hermione nodded, clasping her hands together with the tissue between them. "I'm not … I’m not  _ afraid _ of you ... I do trust you," she informed him, trying to convey sincerity with eyes that wanted to look anywhere but into his own. "I'm just ... I just need to be alone for a while."

Snape nodded in understanding, glancing down at the woman who could very easily have looked small and frail after reliving what she had. By all accounts, she was definitely rattled by the experience, but she didn’t look … broken. A little weak, perhaps, and thrown through the ringer. But her strength and fortitude shone through, even as another tear dipped down her cheek; even as she continued to meet his gaze. Very few people had stated that they trusted him, and none of them had looked at him the way she was looking at him now. 

"Very well," he finally managed to say before stepping back. "I shall inform you of any important updates."

Hermione tipped her head, working to contain her emotions as Snape moved towards the exit. Just before he walked out the front door, she choked out the words, "Thank you, Professor,” before escaping into her room and closing the door.

Snape faltered at the door, struck with an almost painful desire to comfort her, but not knowing how. He closed the front door behind him when he heard her sobs coming from her bedroom, moving swiftly down the corridor and to his rooms to prepare himself for his trip to Azkaban.

… 

The next few weeks passed by with remarkably less drama than the ones preceding it. Snape granted Hermione the space and time she needed to recover from a second, more intimate reliving of the events of her assault, and set about having the man formally charged and arrested. 

Hermione dove into her classes, grateful for the opportunity to not only distract herself from what was sure to come, but also the chance to flex her creative educational muscles. She loved learning, and was determined to pass on that affection and thirst for knowledge to her students. 

Her birthday came and went in usual quiet fashion. She and Samantha shared a quiet meal in their rooms, feasted on a cake that Molly had baked for the both of them, and spent the evening reading stories, singing songs, and building forts out of towels, bedding, cushions and pillows, and even spare sweaters and pajamas. They ended the evening, as always, snuggled together in Hermione’s bed, singing lullabies until Samantha fell asleep. As she had the past several years, Hermione never let herself shed a tear on this day until her daughter was snoring softly in her arms. She hoped that this would be the last of her birthdays where she felt like a victim. She’d resigned herself to never getting closure for so long, and now it was finally within her grasp. 

After her birthday, she’d finally opened up a dialogue with her parents again. Writing them letters and beginning the slow process of deciding how to reintegrate them into her life … and Samantha’s. She wasn’t ready to jump headfirst into forgive-and-forget, but was resolved to be as open-minded as possible. 

It was the day before Halloween when a date for the trial had finally been decided. It would begin November 3rd, and would last roughly two weeks. Normal proceedings were never dealt with this quickly, but Hermione's circumstances weren’t exactly ‘normal’, and Snape had asserted his insistence in the matter ... Hermione had wanted it done and over with, and he made sure she got what she wanted.

He hadn't been able to keep it out of the papers, but he had managed to keep out the part about Samantha being a product of the assault. The wizarding world now knew that the only female member of the Golden Trio had been assaulted after the end of the war, but they - thus far - didn't know anything about the correlation to Samantha, and Hermione had expressed her gratitude towards Snape for that.

Hermione's friends had questioned her during their pre-Halloween holiday dinner at the Burrow, wanting to know why Snape had played a part in finally nailing the men who'd hurt her.

"Why didn't you tell us what was going on?" the now five-month pregnant Ginny asked her. After Severus had extracted the memories from Hermione, she’d begged off explaining why she’d needed them to watch Samantha, needing time to gather her thoughts. 

Hermione shrugged as she helped clear away the stuff on the table. Fred and George were entertaining Samantha in the yard, leaving Hermione vulnerable to being mercilessly interrogated by the rest of the Weasleys and Potters. "I wasn't sure any of it was going to pan out ... I didn't want to get my own hopes up, never mind yours."

Ron stepped forward, taking the plates out of Hermione’s grip as though she were overworking herself. "If I'd known about the Legilimency thing, I would have helped you," he professed.

Harry and Ginny rolled their eyes behind Ron's back, but Hermione didn't miss the actions. "I know, Ron,” she assured him. “I'm sure you would have."

Hermione answered question after question from the majority of the Weasleys until finally she couldn't take it any more and stepped outside for air. She loved them, they were the best family she knew, but they were at times exhausting. George was flying around on a broom with Samantha secured on the seat in front of him, making Hermione's heart drop into her stomach every time George turned or dipped the broom. She knew he’d never let any harm come to Samantha, but it didn't stop her from worrying.

"Has the inquisition finally ended?" Fred asked her, stepping up beside her while they watched the other two flying.

"No, I just called a time-out," Hermione told him. "She looks like she's having the time of her life."

"Naturally," Fred replied smoothly. "She is with her favorite uncles, after all."

Hermione rolled her eyes and grinned, remembering when Samantha had whispered in Fred's ear that he and George were her favorites. They had amazed her by keeping it to themselves well enough, though her excitement whenever she saw them was a clear giveaway to anyone watching them.

"Well, I’ll do my best not to add to your interrogation,” Fred assured her. “In fact, I only have one question: are you okay?"

Hermione thought over everything that had happened over the last few weeks, months, even years. "Yeah, I think I am," she told him. "A part of me would rather just put it all behind me, pretend it didn’t happen, and move on … but they deserve to be punished. If I can finish this whole thing without Samantha finding out and being scarred for life, everything will be perfect."

Fred smiled softly, turning to look at the child squealing happily as his twin angled the broom towards the garden, chasing gnomes.

Hermione spoke softly beside him, her voice almost a whisper. “What if she hates me?”

Fred’s normally carefree face furrowed in confusion and concern. “What’s that?”

“What if she finds out about all this, about where she came from … and hates me? What if she thinks I’m weak or that I should have stayed quiet about it all?” Hermione felt her heart squeeze at the thought of causing her daughter pain. “What if …?”

Fred shook his head, throwing an arm around her shoulder and giving her a tight, comforting squeeze. "I have been blessed with one or two spectacular women in my life, but I don’t reckon there are many as strong as the woman beside me, or as fearless as that little hellion up there on that broom. There is not a world imaginable where that little girl could hate you, Hermione. Not ever.” He gave her hip a little bump with his own, tipping his head down to rest his chin on her head. “She’s got us all on her side, and you do too, you know? You'll be just fine."

… 

Hermione had finally made concrete plans for her and Samantha to go and see her parents. Hermione was taking Samantha trick-or-treating in her old neighborhood, and planned on ending the night at her parents' house to introduce them to her daughter and share a meal.

What she hadn't planned on, however, was Snape accompanying them. Samantha had invited the Potions Professor out of nowhere during supper a week ago, and he had - to Hermione’s surprise and Samantha’s glee - agreed. Hermione reasoned that it was because she would be near the area she had been in when her attack had happened, and he felt responsible to protect her now that the trial was public knowledge.

Samantha had informed him in no uncertain terms that he was to dress up as something ‘different’ than a teacher, and Hermione had admired Snape's restraint for not immediately telling her to stuff it. Hermione didn’t know anyone who could manipulate the ‘bat of the dungeons’ as effectively as her daughter could.

Samantha had almost been disappointed when Snape had knocked on their door at precisely five o'clock to pick them up, and he had not been wearing some extravagant costume, but instead a pair of dark muggle jeans and a black shirt with a long, black jacket over top. Snape had explained to Samantha that he never went without his robes when he was going outside, but he made an exception for her, so Samantha had forgiven him quickly, her face lit up with glee.

Hermione herself wore a golden yellow dress with a wide skirt that swished and flowed with each step, complete with long yellow gloves and a simple yellow ribbon to tie her curls into an elegant up-do. She’d recently introduced Samantha to Beauty and the Beast (Arthur was only too happy to discover the wonder of VHS players) and she had to admit that of all the Disney princesses for her daughter to look up to, one who loved books almost as much as Hermione did was alright in her books. 

"Doesn't Mummy look like a princess?" Samantha asked Snape while they walked along the streets, her kitten costume's tail whacking repeatedly into his legs.

Snape paused a moment before answering, "Yes, a bit, I suppose."

Samantha hopped along the sidewalk with them, grabbing onto Snape's hand when he was least expecting it, and then running up to the next house they came across.

About a half-hour into the evening he turned to Hermione and said, "What is the point of going to strangers' houses and begging for candy?"

Hermione chuckled at the way he'd asked, tightening the shawl she’d added to her costume for warmth. "It's a muggle tradition. It's just something fun for kids to do with their parents. They get to dress up and stay up late, and then their parents get to eat all the candy that’s ‘not good for them’," she explained.

Snape nodded. "I understand."

Hermione cocked her head at him. "Really?"

He pursed his lips, giving her a slight side-eye. "No."

Hermione chuckled at his honesty. “It’s not a huge deal in the wizarding world, I’ll admit. Honestly, our celebration of Halloween doesn’t even compare to how it’s celebrated in other parts of the world. But Samantha enjoys it.” They watched as she received a candy bar from the couple at the door, who waved before closing their door. “It’s a good excuse to engage in a little frivolity.” 

Samantha returned from the last house and they continued through the neighborhood. "When are we going to see your mummy and daddy, Mummy?" Samantha asked for the third time. 

Hermione answered, "Just as soon as we're done with all these houses, Sweetie."

Samantha nodded, skipping ahead and pulling the other two along with her.

"Thanks again for coming with us," Hermione said to Snape. "I'm sure you had other plans ..."

Snape tipped his head, brushing off her concerns as they walked along the sidewalk. "Nothing too pressing, I assure you. Besides, I'm the one who convinced you to -" he glanced down at Samantha who seemed to be off in her own world, " put yourself in the spotlight. It's only right that I ensure your protection."

Hermione nodded. "Well ... thanks."

"Don't mention it," he replied.

… 

They had finally arrived at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Granger.

Hermione took a subtle, deep breath before knocking on the front door of her parents' house. The three of them waited patiently for the door to be answered, Samantha shifting back and forth between them on the tips of her toes.

Jean Granger pulled the door open to see two familiar faces, and one tiny one she'd never seen before.

"Hello, Mum," Hermione greeted, waiting for them to be invited in.

Jean was struck speechless at the sight of her granddaughter, but she opened the door to allow them entrance into their home. Hermione knew her mother was bound to be emotional, but she hoped she wouldn't freak her daughter out.

"Mrs. Granger," Snape greeted politely as she closed the door behind him.

Jean snapped herself back into reality, taking in the sight of all three of them. "Welcome," the older woman stated at last. "It’s, ah, nice to see you again, Professor. You may take your coats off and put them in the closet. Supper will be ready in a few minutes."

Hermione nodded, helping her daughter out of her costume and handing her shawl to Snape to put in the closet with his jacket. With her cat costume tucked into the closet, Samantha was left in a pair of dark pants and a jumper Molly had knitted for her.

"This is a big house, Mummy," Samantha commented, looking around at her new surroundings.

"Thank you," Jean Granger spoke, looking at the little girl with shining eyes. “Can I show you to the living room? Your grandpa would love to meet you.”

Samantha looked from her mother to the other woman and then tugged on Snape's arm, hugging her little body closer to him. "Will you come with me, Severus?" Samantha asked, not wanting to follow the other woman into the sitting room by herself.

Snape looked at Hermione for confirmation before nodding. "Of course, Samantha."

Hermione watched the two of them explore the main floor of the house, smiling at the sight, albeit cautiously.

Jean held back a moment, watching her daughter follow the two with her eyes. "You didn't mention there was something going on there," her mother stated.

Hermione glanced over at her. "Pardon?"

Jean motioned to Snape as he introduced himself to Hermione's father, shaking his hand firmly and placing a reassuring hand on Samantha's shoulder as she met her grandfather for the first time. "I must admit, they do look adorable."

Hermione smiled. "I'm as surprised as you."

Jean furrowed her brow. "How do you mean?"

Hermione explained further, "Well, he was always so dour when I was in school. But lately … well, he's completely different around Samantha. It's rather nice."

Her mother smiled at her daughter's innocence. “The ‘something’ I was referring to was you and him. I didn't realize you were seeing each other."

Hermione whipped her head back to look at her mother. "What! No," she whispered. "He's just a friend ... a colleague."

Jean Granger nodded her head in obvious mock belief. "Sure. That's why he's spending the evening with you and your daughter instead of doing something else for the holiday?"

Hermione blushed just as Snape glanced back over at them, and she felt her heart jump slightly.  _ This is going to be a long evening. What have you gotten yourself into, Hermione? _

… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was almost double the length of the last one. Who needs consistency, lol.
> 
> Also, I know Halloween is not as big of a thing in the UK as it is in the U.S. or Canada (where I'm from), so I'm definitely drawing from North American customs in this particular transition. In my original version of this, I had Hermione dressed up as a "fairy princess" for Halloween, but that just doesn't feel right for her character, so I made a slight change there.
> 
> I feel obliged to point out once more that Hermione’s parents will not be the heroes of this story. It is absolutely important that she make the effort to reconcile with them, but … yeah. Not the heroes.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner with the Grangers goes about as well as you'd expect. Hermione gets some things off her chest. Samantha has an important question for Severus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who’s been reading and sharing the feedback on this story so far. We’re just over the halfway point now! 
> 
> I intentionally wanted there to be a little glimmer of hope at the end of the last chapter, to lead into this one. *insert halo emoji* Don’t hate me! 
> 
> Trigger warnings in this chapter: victim blaming, verbal abuse, prejudice.

Samantha explored the house with Hermione and Severus, discovering Hermione’s old room with a mixture of confusion and excitement. She asked a few times why they’d never visited before, or if Mr. and Mrs. Granger had been on a very long holiday and that’s why they’d never met. 

Paul Granger’s jaw clenched visibly at that, but he said nothing. Hermione told her that sometimes people grow apart, and it takes time to find each other again. 

Samantha gave her mother a disbelieving look, but said nothing more as she explored the books on Hermione’s old shelves. She pulled a copy of  _ The Jungle Book _ and  _ Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland _ off the shelf nearest her mother’s old bed, wanting Hermione to read them after supper.

“Maybe before bedtime,” Hermione agreed, taking the books from her daughter and running her fingers over the covers. She’d been so young the last time she’d even looked at these books. 

Finally it was time to eat. Mrs. Granger led them all into the dining room, arranging them in their seats and bringing Samantha a juice.

Hermione's parents sat at either end of the dining table, leaving Hermione sitting across from Snape with Samantha beside her. Her parents had bought a booster seat for the girl to sit on, the gesture and forethought not lost.

_ They're trying _ , Hermione told herself, glancing around the table and trying to ease her trepidation. Her gaze landed on Snape, who waited for the others to begin their meal before he started to eat, slowly and precisely, his back straight and at constant attention.  _ At least I’m not the only cautious one _ .

"So Hermione, how are you enjoying being a teacher?" her mother asked her.

It was beyond weird to be having small talk with her parents again, but she reminded herself that she had wanted Samantha to meet her grandparents, and put a smile on her face. "Quite well," she answered. "It's everything I thought it would be." She saw Snape grin slightly, but didn't comment on it.

“Teaching Muggle Studies is a fascinating and rewarding experience. I got to take the class when I was a student, and it always amazed me how little information wizards, especially Pureblood wizards, have about the Muggle world. Being able to introduce them to Muggle customs, history, societal norms, inventions ... it's very rewarding."

"So, this school now pays you to teach your kind about normal people?" her father asked her casually.

Snape's head turned at this, eyeing the man steadily.

"Paul!" Hermione's mother reprimanded in a hushed voice.

Hermione sighed, beginning to doubt that the evening was going to be as successful as she'd hoped. Perhaps that novelty of having a granddaughter had worn off, and he was back to his old ways.

"Normal people?" Samantha repeated, looking at the man who had wanted her to call him 'Papa'.

Before Hermione could intervene, Paul spoke, "I just meant that people like me and your grandmother are 'normal', Sugar-Pie. But people like your mum and your friend Mr Snape are not."

“You know what, it’s getting late. Perhaps we should reschedule this evening for another time,” Hermione suggested, setting down her napkin and pushing her plate away, but her father pressed on as though she’d said nothing. 

"You could still be normal, Samantha, if you tried. You could have a normal life with us."

Hermione and Snape stood up at the same time, bumping the table slightly. Hermione placed her hand on Samantha's shoulder. "That's enough," she stated. "We're leaving."

Snape glared at her father while Hermione unbuckled Samantha from the booster seat.

_ I should have known he wouldn't change. I can't believe I put Samantha through this, _ Hermione berated herself.

"Don't you look down your nose at me,  _ Professor _ ! Don’t think I don’t know exactly what kind of game you’re playing here. You think you can just waltz in here and act superior to us? I know what your kind are capable of. What they did to my daughter … what she let them do" 

“How dare you?” Hermione gritted out, lifting Samantha into her arms and hugging her tightly. “After all these years, you still think … just  _ stop _ . What’s the point?”

Paul Granger ignored Hermione and focused his rage on Snape, standing up from his own seat while his wife hung her head down in defeat. “Got nothing to say, have you? You and everyone at that damn school, teaching your kind spells to violate the minds and bodies of whoever they want to? You’re all the same … just a bunch of  _ freaks _ !”

Samantha didn’t understand what this man was so upset about, but frowned deeply at him calling her Severus a freak. She felt her mother’s hand settle over one her, pressing her head tightly to her body. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She wanted to go home to Hogwarts, away from this mean man.

With years of training and practice, Severus settled his face into an emotionless mask, refusing to give Paul Granger the satisfaction of seeing how close he was to striking the man in front of Samantha. He turned smoothly to face Hermione. "Shall I grab the items from the closet?"

Hermione nodded, pushing her chair back to leave the dining room, but her father raised his fisted hand towards Snape. 

"What, did you forget your little stick at home, you pathetic freak?" Paul goaded, all decorum long since gone, his voice raising to a bellow. Years of rage and bitterness had welled up inside him, and he could contain it no longer. “You people never go anywhere with those things, do you? You think everything can be solved with a little wave of your wands. Kill a person here, erase some memories there. Damn the consequences, right? Never mind the lives you interrupt along the way. You lot think you’re so much better than us  _ Muggles, _ but we don’t go around stealing people’s memories, do we? You freaks are all the same!”

Snape didn't get a chance to respond as the cup of tea that had previously been sitting undisturbed on the table in front of Paul's seat floated up from the table and dumped itself over the man's head.

Paul looked around in surprise, sputtering and attempting to get the stinging liquid out of his eyes.

Snape glanced over at Hermione with questioning - and slightly humored - eyes, but she shook her head, letting him know it hadn't been her. She had been close to asking him if he'd done it.

More cups full of tea rose from the table and launched themselves as Hermione's father, and Hermione peered down at the only other magical person in the room. Samantha was glaring furiously at Paul Granger, mad that he'd been so mean to Severus. The table began to shake as Samantha's anger grew.

Hermione shifted Samantha in her arms, trying to break her focus and sooth her before someone got hurt.

"Samantha, Sweetie, it's ok. Calm down," Hermione urged.

Snape watched the little girl with slightly widened eyes, making no effort to spare Mr. Granger from the brunt of her rage.

Samantha ignored her mother's pleas, wanting to hurt the mean man. "My Severus is not a freak!" she declared, and a second later the food and plates began to rise from the table, intent on bombarding Mr Granger. “You’re a bad man!”

Jean panicked, finally standing up from the table, worried for her husband. "Samantha, honey, he didn't mean it! He's sorry!" she promised weakly, trying to stop the incident before it worsened.

Samantha’s pulled back from her teeth in a frustrated growl, not believing the older woman. The items in the air began to hurl themselves at Paul, so Hermione leaned across the table and handed Samantha to Snape, whose face was filled with unconcealed shock and wonder.

"Take her to my rooms," she requested, and a second later the two were gone with a loud  _ pop! _ .

Plates, bowls and casserole dishes fell out of the air, some breaking while others splattered their food about as they settled back into their spots.

Her mother looked back and forth between them with panic in her eyes, while her father looked furious. Hermione couldn’t even fathom where to begin to attempt to repair the damage that had been done, so she simply turned to leave the dining room.

"Don't you walk away from me, witch! We’re not done here!" he roared, and Hermione snapped, whipping around and pulling out her wand, which had been concealed under her dress, pointing it directly at his heart while she walked towards him.

"By the time I'm done with you, you are going to wish I had just walked away!" she retorted scathingly, debating whether or not she could actually use magic on him - the idea seemed appealing enough. "You not only lied to me about your intentions tonight, but you tried to corrupt my daughter. You  _ frightened _ my daughter ... I should hex you where you stand!"

His eyes portrayed his fear, locked onto the tip of his daughter’s wand, and Hermione let him sweat another moment before she continued. She knew she couldn’t curse him, but she held her wand firm all the same. "I, however, am not the monster that you are. It didn’t have to be this way. Why did you even bother trying to reconcile with us? What purpose did any of this serve?”

“What  _ purpose _ ?” her father parroted, anger overpowering the fear in his eyes again. “What purpose did it serve, going back to  _ that world _ after what those wizards did to you? We tried to forgive you after you took our memories away and sent us to Australia … we tried to bring some sense of normalcy back to this household after that damn war of yours. We tried to show you that you were better off leaving that world behind. We hoped that after what those  _ things _ did to you, that it would finally be enough for you to understand the kind of  _ evil _ that comes with magic and wands and all that nonsense. But seeing you cavorting around with another wizard, bragging about sharing our world with  _ them _ ? No, Hermione. Enough is enough.”

Hermione took in his words, torn between heartbreak and rage. She couldn’t believe she’d let herself believe that this had any hope of a happy ending. That anything would have changed.  _ What a fool I am. _

With a shake of her head, Hermione slowly lowered her wand, speaking slowing. “I am truly sorry that your life was affected by the wizarding war. I am sorry that I had to erase your memories to  _ protect your life _ . Whatever anger you have left inside of you about that has nothing to do with my daughter. It has nothing to do with Severus, Hogwarts, or the rest of the wizarding world, and it sure as hell didn’t have anything to do with my assault. I made a choice to keep my family safe, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.” 

She glanced at her mother, who was still staring at her father in silence. “The choice that you have now forced me to make is for my family too. Take your fill of me,  _ Dad _ . Take a good, long look at the woman that I have become, because after tonight, you will never see me again, and you certainly won't see Samantha. She deserves so much more than your guilt and your hate. She deserves better than you … we both do. Goodbye." 

With a final, disgusted look at her mother, Hermione turned on her heel and strode towards the front closet to gather their things.

Jean Granger followed her, sniffling as she went. "Hermione, I'm sorry. I didn't know -"

"I don't believe you for a second," Hermione interrupted, not interested in more of her life. "I should have trusted my gut, but I didn't, and my daughter is the one who suffered. There is nothing you can say to make that better."

Jean started to sob, but Hermione ignored her. "Hermione, please! Yes, I knew that he was still upset about … but I didn't know he was going to do that! I thought we were going to have a nice evening all together! I wanted to see Samantha so badly, I didn't even think he would try to spoil it like this!" She reached out for her daughter’s arm. “Please, give me another chance to make this work.”

Hermione wanted to believe her, but the previous events left her more than doubtful, so she shook her head. "Even if I wanted to believe you, I can't take that chance. I can't trust you, Mum, not around my kid." She grabbed everything out of the closet, tugging on Snape's jacket and thrusting her wrap into one of the pockets before draping it across her arm, holding Samantha's costume and candy in her free hand while she held her wand in the other.

Hermione went to apparate away, but her mother thrust her arms around her, sobbing into her shoulder. "I'm sorry!" she cried, holding Hermione tightly.

Hermione didn't push her off, but she didn’t hug her back either. She wanted to put the whole night behind her and get back to her daughter. "My daughter is waiting for me, I have to go," she stated plainly, and her mother finally pulled back.

"Please, just ... give me a chance to fix things," Jean asked. "I’ll get him to come around … eventually. It doesn't have to be right away.” Her mother nodded as though she’d hit a positive stride. “Mistakes have been made on all sides. We can take things slow … just let me try."

Hermione fixed her mother with a disappointed stare. "I spent months hating myself for what happened to me - not because of what was done to me, but because of how you and dad made me feel. Like it was my fault, like I somehow  _ deserved _ it because of who I was or things I’d done … I could never understand how my own mother could turn her back on me. I worried throughout my entire pregnancy that I would be a terrible mother. That I didn’t deserve her. After everything that was done to me, the fear of failing her crippled me worse than anything. The idea that I might not be good enough for her …” 

Tears she was so tired of shedding slid down her face, but Hermione let them fall. She blinked through them as she forced herself to hold her mother’s broken gaze. “It turns out I didn’t need to worry. I might have failed my daughter tonight by bringing her here, but I know that I can make it up to her. I’ll go back to our home - to Hogwarts - and I’ll wrap her in my arms, and I’ll tell her that I love her, and that nothing in the world could make me stop loving her. Something my own mother couldn’t bring herself to do for me when I needed to hear it most.” 

Through her sadness, Hermione felt a weight lifted off her chest, and breathed out a rush of air. “A part of me should thank you, mother. Everything I don’t want to be as a parent … as a person, I learned from you. I will never understand how you can stand by him, how you can make excuses for him, condone his vitriol, and put him above your own daughter. But I do know that I won’t ever be like you.”

Jean Granger nodded slowly, pursing her lips and wringing her hands together. Hermione glared at the wall as she blinked her tears away, imagining her father in the dining room, wiping the food and drink off of him and had to resist the urge to storm back into the dining room and finish what her daughter had started.

But her daughter needed her more than she needed to punish her parents. She turned to spare one final look for her mother. "You need to sort out your priorities, mother. Samantha and I are not going to wait for you to figure out how to love us as we are. Goodbye.”

With a resounding  _ pop! _ she left her childhood home for good.

...

Hermione had arrived on the grounds just outside the apparation barrier to Hogwarts and speed-walked towards the school. She wished that she'd hadn't forced Samantha on Snape, but it was the fastest way to get her daughter out of that situation. Now she hurried along the grass to the front doors, imagining the horror that Samantha must be putting the Potions Master through.

The night air was significantly cooler than it had been, so Hermione slid his jacket over her shoulders, feeling it swallow her. She could only imagine what a sight she made, in her big yellow dress, tear-stained makeup, and a men’s black jacket swallowing her up … but it was warm, and it smelled like freshly chopped spices.

It seemed like hours before she finally got into the school and hurried to her rooms, but when she finally pushed through the door, less than half an hour had passed since Snape and Samantha had apparated away. She didn't hear any yelling, or anything smashing about, so she figured Samantha must have calmed down. Hermione deposited the bag of candy, and Samantha’s kitten costume down on the kitchen table, tucking her wand back under her dress before heading for Samantha's room.

"Sammy," she whispered, looking into the room, but it was dark. Just as she stepped into the room, a voice called out from the living room behind her.

"In here, Miss Granger," Snape spoke in a hushed voice, and Hermione turned to see the two of them on the couch, Samantha curled up, asleep against his chest, her soft curls tucked under his chin.

There was her heart doing that flop thing again. She forced her mouth together to keep herself from commenting on the adorableness of the two of them ... something told her he would not appreciate the sentiment.

"How is she?" Hermione asked softly, moving to the couch and sitting next to him.

Snape attempted to pass her sleeping daughter over to her, but every time he moved she only clutched to him tighter. "I believe she is okay," Snape commented uncomfortably, not used to having someone cling to him so tightly. "I read some of the book you were reading with her,” he commented, pointing towards the copy of  _ A Wrinkle in Time _ he’d placed on the coffee table. “She fell asleep just a few minutes ago."

Hermione nodded, running a hand through her daughter's hair while she slept. She glanced at the book again, and then groaned, dropping her head into her palm. “I forgot to grab those books she wanted. … I don’t suppose Flourish and Blotts carries  _ The Jungle Book _ and  _ Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland _ ?

"Sadly not,” he commented softly, oddly comforted by the steady rise and fall of Samantha’s chest against his own. “That was quite the display of magic," Snape observed, looking over at Hermione.

She nodded in agreement, wanting to wake her daughter up to talk about what had happened, but also understanding that sleep was more important at present. Her magic was probably as exhausted as she was. "I'll say."

"Is that the first time she's used wandless magic?" he asked curiously.

Hermione shook her head, realizing she hadn't told him about their last adventure with the giant squid. "No, actually, she was playing catch with the giant squid back in September, and the stick went too far away from her, so she just levitated it and brought it back."

Snape raised his eyebrows, impressed - and more than a little proud that the girl had gone from levitating sticks to pelting angry dentists with teacups. He was, surprisingly, ever so slightly miffed that she hadn't told him about her last magical burst.  _ Oh, why are you upset? It's not as though you're ... no, don't go there. Musn't tell her what the girl asked me before she arrived. _

"Well, I shall bid you goodnight," Snape told her. "It's late. I am certain you want to get her to bed?”

Hermione nodded, disappointed that he was in such a rush to leave. Not that she could blame him - the evening was definitely more than he’d signed up for. "Of course," she replied, standing up with him and attempting to take Samantha once again.

The little girl mumbled something quiet and incoherent into Snape's chest, but Hermione couldn't make it out. Snape, however, understood it much clearer and froze up momentarily. Before Hermione could ask him what was wrong he turned on his heel and moved into Samantha's room, leaning down and carefully sliding her under the covers. As he tucked her in, Samantha relaxed somewhat easier, allowing Snape the opportunity to pull back quickly, leaving room for Hermione to sit with her daughter.

Just as he was about to leave Hermione realized she was wearing his jacket and blushed a little as she called him back. "Here you go," she spoke quietly, removing the garment. "I almost forgot."

Snape watched her remove the jacket, trying not to let his eyes wander over her form in the ballroom “princess” dress. He’d managed to focus on other things earlier in the evening, but now they were alone in her rooms, with nothing to distract or interrupt them. He swallowed discreetly, taking the jacket as she held it out for him. "Thank you," he replied, the words catching in his throat slightly before he turned to leave.

Hermione wondered at his behavior but didn't say anything, hearing the front door shut behind him as she turned her attention to her snoring daughter.

Once inside the safety of his own rooms, Snape all-but collapsed against the door, repeating internally the five words Samantha had said to him before she had fallen asleep against his chest:  _ Will you be my Daddy? _

… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That seems about as good a place as any to end that chapter ;) 
> 
> For those who read this when it was originally posted, I’ve added 2 more pages to this chapter from its original version. I wanted to flush out her father’s outburst and little and delve into why his change from the little we see of him in canon. I also wanted Hermione to have the opportunity to get some things off her chest with her mother. There may be more of that to come, but I am going to be editing her mother’s arc a fair bit from my original story, much based on my own relationship with my mother. Yay for dysfunctional families! 
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of this chapter!
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's assailants face judgment for their crimes, Ron inserts himself where he's not needed, and Hermione finds out exactly what Samantha asked of Severus. 
> 
> Trigger Warning: rape victim facing her abusers

The morning after Halloween Hermione and Samantha spent the morning together cuddled on the couch, drinking hot cocoa and talking about the events of the previous night. 

Hermione apologized to Samantha, promising her she would never have to see “that bad man” ever again. She assured her daughter that there was nothing wrong with having magic, that there was nothing ‘freakish’ about being a witch or wizard, and that there was nothing that she had done to make Paul Granger act the way he had. 

Samantha decided that Paul and Jean Granger were not good enough to be a mummy and daddy, and that Molly and Arthur should be her grandparents instead. Hermione was hard-pressed to argue that suggestion, certain that Molly wouldn’t complain about being upgraded from “auntie”. 

Just before the woman in question arrived to watch Samantha during Hermione’s afternoon classes, a House Elf arrived with two packages; one for Hermione, and one for Samantha. Hermione opened hers to find the shawl she’d forgotten in the pocket of Snape’s jacket, smiling at the gesture while chuckling at how frequently they were needing to return each other’s clothing for two people who were not … otherwise involved. 

Samantha squealed with delight when she opened her package. It was filled not only with new, hardback editions of  _ The Jungle Book _ and  _ Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland _ , but also copies of  _ Matilda _ ,  _ Charlotte’s Web _ ,  _ Anne of Green Gables, The Wind in the Willows,  _ and  _ The Secret Garden _ . All titles that had been on Hermione’s shelves in her childhood room. The note attached to the package simply said, “To help build your own collection and create new memories.” 

Hermione tried to find him after lunch to thank him for his gifts, but he was already in his class. When she inquired with Minerva why he wasn’t at dinner that evening, she relayed that he was working on a potion that required constant observation, and has asked to take dinner in his labs. Samantha was disappointed, but Hermione reminded her that he didn’t just have classes to teach, he also provided the Hospital Wing with their potions and salves. 

Despite reassuring her daughter, Hermione was struck by just how much she herself missed the presence of her fellow professor, and wondered if his absence really was because of work, or if he was trying to put some distance between them after the disaster at her parents’ house.

...

The trial began two days later, and Hermione was more than ready for it to all be over. She had reached out to Kingsley Shacklebolt and requested that the trial be closed to the public. The court proceedings would still be a matter of public record, but she had gotten her wish, and now waited - less than patiently - to be called as a witness. She didn't want to have to face them, or have to share her trauma with a room full of strangers, but begrudgingly understood the necessity of it.

Most of her students and peers had thoughtfully restrained themselves for barraging her with questions, though Hermione was certain that had more to do with Minerva threatening them with a month’s worth of detentions than their own restraint. She remembered all too well the curiousness of youth.

Snape had been weird around her for the last few days, and neither he nor Samantha would tell her why. She'd asked Samantha if something had happened when he'd brought her home, but the little girl would just smile and start to hum a song. Her daughter wasn't known for keeping secrets, however, so Hermione was confident that she'd get it out of her eventually.

On November 9th she was called in to testify.

The room where the trial was taking place was nothing like a muggle courtroom. It was more like the Great Hall, with a large seating area that stacked nearly to the roof - empty though it was - and opposite them was what appeared to be a council of ministry officials, with Kingsley Shacklebolt residing in the center. The men accused of the crime were in a cage-like area suspended in the middle of the room, and Hermione’s seat was slightly behind them, facing the officials.

She felt her heart speeding up as she saw the two men, recognizing them both from her memory and wanting to scream out "that's them!" but her voice wouldn't let her.

Only one of the men, it turned out, was a Death Eater; Jaxon Legeaut. He had been imprisoned for unrelated crimes to her assault, but his conviction in this matter would ensure that his sentence was extended to life imprisonment. 

The other man, the one who made her skin crawl, who had escaped justice for years, had been a Snatcher, one of Greyback’s crew. Gregor Brothwell. She’d learned their names the moment Snape could officially identify them, but they still sounded foreign to her. Faraway … not quite real. 

The Snatchers were never marked as Death Eaters, not all of them anyway, which is how Gregor had managed to evade discovery after the fall of Voldemort. He had, in fact, stolen a wand from one of his fallen associates, using that wand to commit his deeds and ensure that no Unforgivable curses were ever traced back to him. Aurors had found the wand, presenting it at the trial, along with souvenirs that he had kept from his evil deeds. Hermione’s stomach clenched as she sat frozen in her seat in the Wizengamot chamber, watching in horror as hair clippings were presented as evidence. There were over a dozen of them, hers mixed in with the blondes, reds, and blacks.

_ How many more Samantha’s could be out there? _ She felt sick.

Kingsley greeted her calmly and professionally, checking in with her before he permitted the next stage of the trial to begin.

Hermione was asked to recite what she remembered of the event, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She’d brought no trace of Samantha with her to the trial, not wanting either of the vile creatures facing judgment to know of her existence. She’d written a small “S” on the inside of her thumb, allowing it to ground her and give her strength. 

Though she recounted the incident to the best of her ability, she was monumentally relieved that the public was not permitted access to the chambers during the trial, and especially so that her friends had honoured her request to not come. She had a hard enough time getting the words out now, she doubted she would have been able to do it with those near and dear to her watching.

When a male member of the Wizengamot asked her why she was suddenly able to present the memories when she hadn't been able to before, she told them truthfully that a colleague had suggested a method she hadn't considered before, and had helped her retrieve the memories. She explained to them with a hitch in her voice that one of the men had placed some sort of spell on her that had made it impossible for her to identify him, but the colleague had been able to point him out from seeing him in her mind.

To demonstrate, Kingsley asked her to identify the two men. Even though all of the officials had seen the memory through a pensieve, even with the corroborating evidence presented against them, Hermione still couldn't get out the words. She tried repeatedly to say, "that's them" and "they're the ones who attacked me", but she couldn't make the words come out.

The sane man above her smirked while the other giggled maniacally, and Hermione wanted nothing more than to hex them into oblivion. 

Kingsley brought the chambers back to order, staring the men down as he plucked Gregord’s wand from evidence. Her rapist’s smile faltered as he tracked Kingsley’s movement, realizing what he intended to do only a moment before he raised the wand to Hermione’s temple and uttered, “ _ Finite Incantatem”.  _

Hermione felt a familiar cloudy sensation in her eyes and blinked reflexively, feeling it move through her eyes and drift towards the back of her head, tickling at the base before leaving her altogether. Her braid felt suddenly lighter, more whole, as though a toxic weight had been lifted off. She swallowed the lump that had risen to her throat, forcing herself to look up at the two men caged above her. Gregor’s face slipped for just a moment, belying the real fear he felt that he might truly be punished for his crimes.

Her lip trembled slightly, but she maintained eye contact as her right hand lifted from her lap, extending and pointing one finger directly at them. “It was them,” she announced, and then sucked in a shuddering breath. “It was them.” 

Kingsley resumed questioning the men as to the rest of their victims, and why they’d gone after Hermione. 

Jaxon Legeault was incapable of forming a coherent sentence, his mind so broken from whatever torment he’d endured in Azkaban, but Gregor, having replaced the mask of enjoyment on his face, smirked down at her as he answered the question, his voice slick with grotesque pride in himself. He’d apparently been one of the Snatchers who’d brought them to Malfoy manor, though he hadn’t stood out then. After Bellatrix had banished the Snatchers from the manor, he’d snuck back inside, watching the insane, violent Death Eater torture Hermione and carve  _ Mudblood _ into the skin of her arm. 

Hermione unconsciously traced the faded scar on her arm, almost always obscured by clothing. She remembered that day as vividly as she remembered his assault, wishing she could banish both events from her memory. 

Gregor confessed to becoming obsessed with her after she’d escaped, wanting to inflict the same damage and worse that Bellatrix had done to her. After the Battle of Hogwarts and the fall of Voldemort, he and his partner had waited until she was alone and vulnerable, and then pounced. He recounted the assault with even more detail than Hermione had, without a trace of remorse or shame. 

When asked about the other women he’d assaulted, Gregor just smirked, wishing them luck in tracking them down. He seemed excited about the prospect of reliving the events again in future trials. 

Finally, the members of the Wizengamot had heard enough. Kingsley sealed both of the men’s mouths magically, addressing the members directly and calling for a vote as to the men’s guilt or innocence.

Hermione couldn’t believe the trial would be over so quickly, but less than a minute later all members of the Wizengamot voted in favor of a guilty verdict, and both men were sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban.

She was numb. Four years had passed without so much as a clue to who had assaulted her, and now it was all over ... they were imprisoned, they would be paying for their crimes, and as Severus had said: they wouldn't be able to do it to anyone else ever again. With the spell on her removed, she could even talk openly about it, if she wanted to. She wished she could feel happy or relieved or triumphant, but all she felt was … numb.

She had to tell someone about what had happened, and the first person that jumped into her mind was Snape, but he'd been weird around her lately, and she didn’t think she could trust herself to be in control of her emotions just yet. Harry and Ginny were watching Samantha while she was at the trial, so she didn't want to go there right away and risk her daughter finding out more than she wanted her to. 

Finally she decided on going to the Burrow. Molly Weasley was home and Arthur would soon be, and she knew they would want to hear the news.She apparated to their home outside Ottery St. Catchpole, walking in the front door and calling out for Molly.

"Hermione, dear!” the older woman greeted warmly. “Did I know you were coming? Is Samantha with you" Molly asked her while she magically cleaned the kitchen and shooed several chickens out the front door.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I just wanted to stop by after the trial."

Molly nodded in somber understanding, shuffling back inside and snapping a tea towel at a stray chicken who tried to follow her back inside. "Oh, deary ... I'm sure it will all be over with soon, and you can get back to your life, and those dreadful men will be behind bars."

Hermione bit her lower lip, glancing down at the “S” etched onto her thumb. "Well, actually, that's why I'm here ... it's all over."

Molly looked up at her, closing the door. "What, the trial?"

Hermione nodded.. "They were found guilty."

Molly cried out loudly with relief, throwing her arms around Hermione's slender form and squeezing her tightly. "Oh, thank Merlin! Oh, love, you must be so relieved!"

Hermione hugged her back slowly. "I don’t … I just ... I’m not sure it's really hit me yet, you know?"

Molly nodded, pulling back and holding Hermione at arm's length, brushing a comforting hand over her shoulder. "Well, I've got just the thing for that. Let's have a spot of tea, shall we?"

… 

Hermione picked Samantha up later that night, still sort of dazed from the day's events. She promised Harry and Ginny she'd fill them in when Samantha wasn't there and flooed back to her rooms.

She sang her daughter to sleep that night, cuddling her tightly and drifting her fingers through her curls until the little girl fell asleep. Samantha snored peacefully in her bed while Hermione watched her sleep, her own brain unable to rest, thinking over the last few months. It really was all over, and the one person she really needed to thank was Severus Snape. The thought alone made her realize how much they had both changed over the years.

It was just after nine o'clock when she heard a knock on her front door and left Samantha's room quietly to open it, shutting her daughter's door almost all the way so whoever was at the door wouldn't disturb her.

She was unsurprised to see Severus outside her door, and more than a little relieved. She managed a small smile in greeting, holding the door open. He walked through with a slight bow of his head, holding up a bottle of wine.

"I know you don't drink around your daughter, but I thought some sort of gift was appropriate," he told her, handing her the bottle.

_ First the books, now the wine. This man …  _ Hermione nodded. "Thank you. I'm sure one glass wouldn't hurt."

He pulled glasses out of the cupboard, pouring them each a drink and then setting the bottle aside. "To the justice system," Snape stated half-heartedly, managing to contain his sarcastic smirk for a whole three seconds.

Hermione rolled her eyes, raising her glass to his. "To not being able to mind your own damn business."

Snape gazed at her for a moment before nodding and clinking their glasses together, drinking a mouthful and putting the glass down.

Hermione drank hers slowly, searching for something to say.

"You don't seem pleased," Snape observed.

Hermione shrugged, moving into the living room. "I'm just waiting for it all to set in. I'm sure I'll be elated tomorrow."

Snape only mildly doubted the truth to that statement as he sat next to her, wondering at how he’d come to spend so much time in her rooms instead of his own. "It all seems rather anti-climactic?" he guessed, his finger tracing the edge of his glass.

Hermione leaned back against the couch, gazing up at the ceiling with slightly unfocused eyes. "Maybe. I mean, maybe I thought it would take so much more than a pensieve to catch the men responsible ... I guess I just resigned myself to the fact that they were never going to get caught, and now that they have, I don't really know how to feel, or act."

She chuckled darkly for a moment, taking a deeper drink of wine from her glass. “ _ Jaxon Legeaut _ and  _ Gregor Brothwell _ ,” she uttered, curling her tongue distastefully around their names. “I never thought I’d know their names, never mind be able to say them out loud. It’s … a lot.”

Snape nodded in understanding, glancing over at Samantha's door. "How has she ... er, been? With everything that happened with your parents ..." He trailed off awkwardly, remembering how that night had ended. He had, in fact, been thinking of little else the past few days.

Hermione sensed the shift in his demeanor, narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What happened after you brought her back here?" Hermione asked him, 

Snape glanced towards Samantha’s bedroom, opening his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a sound, the fireplace lit up and Ron Weasley stepped through.

"Hermione, I’m here to -" he trailed off as he saw the two of them sitting on the couch. "What's he doing here?"

Hermione sighed. "Don't be rude, Ronald," she told him. "What are you doing here?"

Ron glanced between the two of them suspiciously before he replied, "Harry told me about the results of the trial, I thought I'd come over and we could celebrate." He glanced down at the empty wine glass in Hermione's hand. "Although I see you already are."

Hermione shifted in her seat, glancing briefly at the scowling professor next to her. "Severus was just checking in on me, Ronald."

The room went silent as everyone realized that she had just called him by his first name. She hoped neither of them would say anything, but Ron spoke up.

"Oh, so it's  _ Severus _ now?" he repeated, his voice rising.

The man in question opened his mouth to intervene but Hermione beat him to it. "Ron, Samantha is sleeping in the next room, please keep your voice down."

Ron looked like he wanted to argue, but then thought better of it. He looked at Snape pointedly, gesturing towards the door with his head. 

“Do you require assistance making your way out the door, Mr. Weasley?” Snape wondered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Surely it would be more expedient to leave the same way you came in.” One single eyebrow arched to perfection, staring down the quickly reddening younger man. 

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You miserable git,” Ron hissed, stepping forward.

Hermione stood from her seat, holding her hand up to Ron’s chest and pressing him back. “That is quite enough, Ronald. It’s late. If you wake up Samantha over this nonsense -”

Ron cut her off, gesturing at the still smirking Potions Master on the couch, "Can't you see what he's doing, Hermione? He's playing you. Using Samantha to get close to you, and you're letting him snake his way in!"

Snape stood from the couch, towering over the shorter redhead and invading his space. "Miss Granger has asked you to keep your voice down. If you cannot adhere to that simple request, I will silence you myself. Do not speak about things you clearly know nothing about."

Hermione looked between the two men and rolled her eyes, walking past Ron to the fireplace and grabbing the dish of Floo Powder from the mantle. "I think it's best that you leave," she told Ron, holding out the dish. “We’ll talk about this later.” 

Ron glared at Snape but did as Hermione asked, intent on coming back the next day to make her see reason.

Hermione huffed out a sigh once he’d left, putting the dish back above the fireplace. "Sorry about that," she offered embarrassedly. "He doesn’t always think before he speaks."

Snape's nose twitched in annoyance. "That would be an understatement."

Hermione searched for something to say, forgetting the question she’d asked him before Ron’s arrival; a question he still hadn’t answered..

"Perhaps I should leave," he offered, sensing her discomfort.

Before she could answer, something bumped into Snape's legs, bending his knees forward and forcing him to step forwards to compensate and not fall over. His arms shot out to prevent himself from landing on Hermione and he ended up boxing her in, pressing her back against the fireplace. Crookshanks darted out of the room after bumping into Snape, leaving the two pressed against each other, their eyes locked and their breathing halted.

Hermione's right hand shot up of its own accord, gripping Snape's arm from the outside as she looked up at him. She didn't know what to say, and the first thing that came to her mind blurted out of her mouth. "I'm sorry if I was out of line, calling you Severus."

Snape blinked, the sight of her worrying her bottom lip between her teeth doing things to his composure. "It's quite alright, Miss Granger," he stated smoothly.

Feeling a little braver, Hermione spoke, "Call me Hermione." Her heart was pounding an uneven beat as he tilted his head, looking at her curiously.

"Very well," he replied softly, and it was entirely possible that it was his imagination, but her head felt as though it had drifted closer. He tested the word out on his own tongue, "Hermione."

Hermione's tongue darted out to wet her lips and his eyes glued themselves to her mouth as he watched the action, sensing as his blood began navigating its way to a certain part of his body.

"Mummy," a small voice called from beside them and Hermione looked past Snape's arm to see her daughter coming out of her room, rubbing her eyes. "I'm thirsty."

Snape dropped his arms quickly, straightening his spine and using his long legs to put a respectable distance between them.

Samantha smiled sleepily when she saw that Severus was there. "Oh, hi Sev’rus," she greeted with a big yawn.

Hermione composed herself, brushing phantom lint off of her pants and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ears. "Hang on, Sweetie, I'll bring you some water." She moved into the kitchen, grateful for the excuse to shake the fogginess out of her head. She retrieved a cup from the cupboard, waiting for the tap to run cold before filling it halfway. When she returned Samantha was whispering something in Snape's ear while he crouched down next to her.

Hermione walked over with an amused grin. "What are you two whispering about?" she asked her daughter who took the cup to cover her smiling face.

Snape stood back up with a strained look on his face, clearly trying to hide his discomfort. "I should be going. Goodnight, Miss Samantha."

He began to walk away but Hermione called him back. "Could you just wait a moment?" His feet froze despite his brain's orders to march out of the room as fast as he could.

Hermione let Samantha finish her water, then guided her back to bed, tucking her in and closing the door softly behind her. She found Severus waiting by the front door and drifted up behind him, eventually moving into his line of sight. His whole body was stiff, a stark contrast to how comfortable he’d been with her just moments before. 

"I don't want to make you feel like you can't talk to my daughter - Merlin knows she’d talk your ear off if you let her - but I can’t have her keeping secrets from me," Hermione told him. "So, I kind of need you to tell me what she was telling you."

Snape paused, looking away from her, a pained expression on his face.

Hermione placed her hand on his arm again. "Okay, now I'm worried."

Snape shook his head, his arm warming where she touched him. "It's nothing improper. It seems … your daughter is a little confused, that's all."

"Okay," Hermione said slowly. "Confused about what?" There weren't many things that could make Snape so visibly nervous, and Hermione was almost afraid to know the cause of it.

"Samantha has ... made a request of me," Snape began, looking for the proper words.

"Oh, for goodness sakes, just spit it out!" Hermione said, unable to stand it any longer.

"She asked me to be her father.” His tone was sharp, concise, but no less strained.

Hermione stared back at him, the air gone from her lungs, unable to make a sound. While she stood there frozen, Snape removed her hand from his arm and exited the room, closing the door behind him and moving down the corridor as swiftly as he could without running.

… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I'm so cruel ... I keep dangling that kiss in front of you, and then taking it away! It’ll happen eventually, I promise. 
> 
> Also, for those who remember the previous version of this story, I have added a significant portion to the trial. In my original version, the spell wasn’t removed from her, so even though they were found guilty, she still couldn’t physically name them or point them out. With the addition of them finding his wand, it seemed unlikely that they wouldn’t be able to reverse the spell. I also felt that a significant part of her trauma was rooted in not being able to identify them.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with this story so far. Let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama!


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Samantha talk about Severus, Hermione takes a leap of faith, and Remus and Ginny don't get paid for these kind of shenanigans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I have a sneaking suspicion that you guys might like this chapter, but I'll wait and see.

When Snape finally reached his own rooms he shut the door behind him, sealing it with several strong wards. He doubted she would attempt to follow him, but … _better safe than sorry._ Needing something stronger than wine in his system, he summoned his bottle of firewhiskey and sauntered into his own living room, sinking down onto his favorite armchair.

He took a large swallow from the glass he'd poured for himself, berating himself internally for having gone over to her rooms at all. She would surely keep her child far away from him now. Snape tried to lie to himself, but he couldn't deny that the tiny, precocious witch had gotten under his skin ... they both had.

Another gulp of firewhisky burned its way down his throat. He glanced across the room at the couch she’d sat in when he’d first revealed what he’d gone to Azkaban for. His gaze flickered down to the carpet, where he’d held her through her anxiety attack. He could still feel the pressure of her smaller fingers clinging tightly to his. 

Pressing his forehead against the glass in his hand, Severus considered just how much his life had been altered since Hermione Granger had come back to Hogwarts.

When he had first seen her standing alone outside Hagrid's hut, his first thought had admittedly been that of doubtful curiosity. Then he’d discovered the small creature she’d brought along with him, and his next thought had been, ‘ _Well, things are about to get interesting’_ . And they certainly had. How could they not be? _There isn't a single thing about that woman that isn’t interesting._

His thoughts drifted to the insatiable curiosity that had gripped him when he'd encountered the young and colorful Samantha Granger. That tiny, mischievous, unendingly cheery young girl had systematically begun to alter his life, and he hadn't noticed soon enough to prevent it. He answered every question she asked him without sarcasm or derision, and what was more, he seemed to be fundamentally incapable of saying "no" to her.

Severus had declined to answer only one question she had asked him thus far, and it had easily been the most important one.

_"Will you be my Daddy?"_ she had asked him so casually, so simply, her tired face full of innocence and trust. He hadn't been able to answer her, and had instead resumed reading to her, watching her fall asleep against his chest while his heart pounded furiously inside of him.

Severus poured himself another glass while he thought of that night; Hermione in that golden yellow ball gown, Samanatha gripping his hand as she pulled him from house to house, the way she’d tucked herself against his legs as they made their way through the Granger home. He struggled to admit - even to himself - that despite the dinner dramatics, it had been one of his best Halloweens in a long time … maybe ever.

He thought of everything he'd seen inside of Hermione's mind, all of the memories - good and bad. He recalled beating Jaxon Legeaut in his cell for information about Hermione's other attacker, and thought about how much he'd wanted to throw a few more punches when the other one - Gregor - had been arrested. He’d exercised herculean restraint, not wanting to do anything to jeopardize the man's incarceration. He remembered Hermione's reaction to him telling her what he had discovered, and how she'd responded to his attempts to comfort her.

Severus looked down at his hand, remembering the sensation of her small hand grasping his while she rode through the waves of her panic attack ... the feeling of her soft chin in his work-worn fingers when he turned her face to look at him. He recalled with perfect detail the look on her face as they had crouched together on the carpeted floor of his living room, deciding together that they would do whatever it took to capture the men who'd hurt her.

He remembered the feel of her against him when that cat of hers had launched him forwards, placing him a mere inches away from her lips.

Hermione Granger had awoken something inside of him ... something that had been sleeping for a very long time. He had no idea how he was meant to put it back to rest … or if he even wanted to.

… 

Hermione knew she had to talk to Samantha, but she had no idea where to start. She'd been worrying that something like this would happen, but had no idea how to deal with it. She put it off for a few days while she tried to come up with a game plan, but between coping with the results of the trial, her classes, connecting with her friends, and everything that was going on with Severus … well, she had no real solutions, but she couldn’t keep putting it off. She decided to take her for a walk after breakfast the Wednesday morning after Severus had left her rooms - he had been carefully avoiding her since she had found out what Samantha had asked of him.

Hermione took her daughter for a walk around the castle grounds, wanting privacy in case any students heard what was discussing with her. Severus would not appreciate students knowing his personal business, and for that she could hardly blame him. 

Once they reached one of the large trees by the lake Hermione sat down, patting her lap for Samantha to sit down as well.

"So," Hermione began, pulling her daughter's hair out of her eyes. "We’ve been spending a lot of time with Severus lately. You like him a fair bit, don’t you?"

Samantha nodded with a big, toothy grin. “I do Mummy! He’s the best! He knows so many big words, and he showed me Squidsy, and read me books, and went tricky-treating with us!”

Hermione smiled fondly, trying to be level-headed and realistic, but her daughter’s enthusiasm made that nearly impossible. 

“He really likes us, Mummy,” Samantha said matter-of-factly. “I want him to …” Surprisingly, her daughter faltered, not finishing the thought that Hermione was all-too aware of.

She didn’t want to give away that Severus had told her of Samantha’s ask, so rather than ask her directly, she said, “What do you want him to do, Sweetie?”

Samantha giggled a little, looking away. "It's supposed to be a secret, Mummy."

Hermione turned her daughter so she could look into her eyes. "Well, we can share secrets, can't we? How about you tell me your secret, and I’ll tell you a secret?"

Samantha considered that for a moment before nodding. "Okay."

Hermione waited for her daughter to continue.

"I asked him if he would be my Daddy," Samantha disclosed, looking up at her mother with a shy smile.

Hermione felt her heart flutter, but pushed it down. "And what did he say?"

Samantha shrugged. "He didn't say anything yet," she answered truthfully, looking sad for a moment before her face lit up again. "But he didn't say no!"

Hermione nodded, her heart going out to her daughter, wishing she had the perfect words to resolve the situation that was so likely to end in heartbreak … maybe for both of them.

"I really like him, Mummy," Samantha confessed.

Hermione sighed with a soft smile. “Me too, kiddo.” 

Samantha gave her mother a comically suspicious look. “Is that your secret, Mummy?”

Hermione looked at her daughter softly, not having the heart to tell her that she didn't think Severus would want to be her father. Instead, she pulled her daughter into her arms and hugged her, pressing a soft kiss into her hair. “Yeah … that’s my secret.” 

… 

Severus didn't show up to any meals that day, or to breakfast the following morning. Hermione figured he was getting the house elves to deliver his meals so he could avoid her and Samantha at the Great Hall, and that bothered her more than she cared to admit. She didn't want him to feel like he had to stay away from her.

She knew from her schedule that he had patrol that night, so she swapped shifts with Pomona, getting Dobby to watch over Samantha while she slept. Hermione made her way to the Astronomy Tower, knowing that would be one of his first stops.

She didn't have to wait long, but found herself wishing that she had a little more time, as she still didn't know what she was going to say to him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her, his entire body stiffening when he saw her waiting for him, her shape silhouetted by the moonlight.

Hermione slid down from the ledge where she sat, walking over to before he could turn to leave. "Well, this seemed to be the only way I could talk to you," she told him. "You've been avoiding me for days."

Severus looked away and began walking down the steps, trying to put distance between them but she kept up with him.

"Would you just stop and look at me?" Hermione requested, jogging forward once they reached the bottom of the steps, blocking his path so he couldn’t leave the stairwell.

"It's just easier for everyone this way," Severus spoke finally. "It's better if I stay away."

Hermione looked at him with confusion in her wide eyes. "What? What are you talking about?"

His gaze cut into her, hard and aching in its intensity. "I'm not a nice person, Hermione. I'm not cut out to be Samantha's babysitter, never mind her … I’m no one’s father-figure," he admitted, then kicked himself mentally for the confession. “My presence has clearly given her expectations that are … well, simply not feasible or appropriate. It’s best that I remove myself before she becomes further attached.”

Hermione regarded him softly, torn - not for the first time, she realized - between wanting to slap him, and wanting to kiss him. "You're not as horrible as you think. Samantha ... she loves you. If I do say so myself, she’s a pretty decent judge of character. Obviously you've got some niceness in you somewhere."

Snape rolled his eyes. "She's a child. She loves everyone."

After a moment's hesitation Hermione raised her hand to his face, cupping his ever-so-slightly stubbled cheek and making him look at her. "I've grown a little fond of you myself," she added. "And I'm no child."

He tried to shake his head to the side, but Hermione left her hand in place. His face warmed beneath her touch, the hint of a flush rising against his pale skin. He was reminded, vividly so, of the last time he’d been so closer to her, the way his eyes had drifted over the blush of her lips. "Miss Granger … if you knew what you were saying -"

Hermione moved into his space, climbing up a step so that she was standing on the bottom step to the Astronomy Tower, standing beside him and closer to his eye level. " _Hermione_ ,” she reminded him pointedly, and with far more conviction than she thought possible. “I know what I'm saying. And I know what I'm doing."

Before he could react she pressed her lips against his, moving her hand slowly from his cheek to his neck and letting her fingers run through the ends of his hair.

At first he couldn't make his body move, unwilling to believe that she was actually kissing him. For almost two whole seconds he couldn't believe it ... and then the dam broke and he brought his own arms up to surround her body, wrapping one around her waist while the other reached out to gauge where the wall behind her was before pressing her back against it. Hermione gasped against his mouth and he hesitated for the briefest of moments before teasing her tongue with his own.

She gripped his neck in her hand, bringing the other one up to press against his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath the fabric of his clothes pulse under her hand, his heart beating wildly beneath it. She could feel the cool of the stone on her back fighting with the heat emanating from his body, filling her body with an intoxicating warmth that made her shiver all over.

She felt whole again … or perhaps more accurately, she felt like a whole _woman_ again. She couldn't explain it, and she didn't want to analyze it; she just wanted to enjoy it.

Severus moved his free hand from the wall to her own neck, pulling her hair over her shoulder and tucking it behind her ear while his other hand slid up her back, their mouths never parting.

When his lower body angled into hers with pointed pressure Hermione gasped once more, breaking the kiss with panting breaths. Her heart was racing and her skin was on fire, but none of it was painful.

"I apologize," Severus breathed against her shoulder, where his head had dropped. He sought refuge there, trying like mad to gather his thoughts and rein in his libido.

Hermione shook her head slightly, craving more of his warmth. "Don't be. I started it."

He slowly brought his head back up to look at her, taking in her flushed skin and her puffy lips. She looked beautiful.

"So, does this mean you'll stop avoiding me?" Hermione wondered with a nervous, self-deprecating chuckle, trying to cover the fact that the kiss had left her breathless and more than a little shaky in the knees.

Severus then remembered why he'd been avoiding her in the first place, and he stood back, straightening himself out and looking down. "I'm no good for you," he told her.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I think I’m more than capable of being the judge of that."

He shook his head, fighting against his desires and stepping away from the steps. Away from her. "I'm sorry."

Hermione watched him walk away, not understanding the shift in his resolve, her lips still tingling in the wake of his kisses.

… 

Harry was at work when Hermione stopped by the next day, something she was eternally grateful for. She wasn't entirely sure Ginny would keep this conversation to herself as it was, but with Harry there as well, there was no way she could get the advice she so dearly needed.

"You have to promise me that you won't tell Harry or Ron about this," Hermione insisted, pacing back and forth while Samantha napped in the guest room. "I'm serious."

Ginny nodded her head for the third time, watching her friend practically wear a hole through the living room carpet. "I got it. Super secret. Now will you just tell me what’s going on, already?"

Hermione took a deep breath, looking down before she spoke, "I kissed Snape." She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

… 

"I apologize, Severus. Never once have you paid me a ‘social visit’, so excuse me for enjoying the moment," Remus teased the agitated Potions Master while he calmly drank his tea.

Severus glared daggers at him, but he had no one else to go to for advice, and the werewolf had promised he would keep his mouth shut, for whatever that was worth.

With a deep sigh and a curse to the heavens, Severus finally admitted, "I ... kissed Hermione Granger."

… 

Hermione hadn't heard so much as a sound from Ginny, and began to wonder if her friend had passed out from shock. Out of concern for her friend’s unborn child, Hermione looked up quickly only to see Ginny gazing back at her with amusement in her eyes.

"Is that all?" Ginny asked her, barely containing her laughter.

"What do you mean, ‘ _is that all_ ’? I kissed Severus Snape!" she repeated, forgetting to keep her volume in check,

Ginny confirmed that she’d not misheard her the first time, giving her a ‘carry on’ wave of her hand. "And ...?"

Hermione decided that her friend must have gone mad. The pregnancy hormones had clearly addled her brain.

… 

"And you're telling me this because?" Remus wondered, his eyes full of unsupressed humor.

Severus rolled his eyes at the werewolf, cursing his stupidity. "Clearly I've gone insane!"

“Ah yes, because only insane people kiss beautiful, available women?” Remus wondered.

Severs scoffed at the sarcasm, wondering why he’d thought the werewolf would have anything valuable to contribute to his obvious dilemma. “This was a useless endeavour,” he muttered bitterly.

Remus smiled at his colleague’s expense, yet again. "Well, answer me this then, Severus ... did she kiss you back?"

Severus opened his mouth only to close it again swiftly, looking anywhere but at Remus Lupin.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor settled himself back into his seat, bringing the mug of tea to his lips once more. "Then I’m sorry to inform you, but you are not the only one aboard the crazy train, Snape."

… 

" _And_ , I haven't so much as looked at a man since ... you _know_ ," Hermione told her, gesturing wildly. "But lately I've been having these ... feelings."

Ginny grinned.

"Oh, get that dirty look off your face," Hermione commented, picking up a tissue off the coffee table to flick at her friend. "That’s not what I meant at all. It’s just … things with Severus are so complicated, I’d hate to spoil what we’ve managed to ... and why aren't you more surprised that I'm telling you this?"

"Aside from the fact that you're now calling him 'Severus'?" Ginny mused. "Let's see: he helped you track down and put away the men who attacked you - without you asking for his help. He caters to Samantha's every whim, he got you to try and fix things with your parents ..."

Hermione cocked her head at her, raising her eyebrows.

"Okay, that situation might not have worked out splendidly, but he still gets points for effort," Ginny clarified. "Now aside from that, he's gone out of his way to be pleasant to you and your child, Samantha adores him, and Ron hates him even more than he did when we were in school.” The pregnant woman waggled her fingers as she ticked off each statement. “So, no, my dear friend. I am not the least bit surprised."

… 

"She can't honestly have feelings for me," Severus stated aloud. "She's just confused. Her emotions about the trial are clouding her judgment."

Remus's grin only grew bigger, shaking his head at his daft colleague.

Severus glared at him, fighting the urge to hex the grin off his face. "Oh, what do you know, fur ball?"

"I know that I've never seen you act this way, not even when we were kids," Remus answered. "You're completely gone over her."

Severus shook his head, finally accepting the tea that Remus had poured for him, taking an exaggerated swallow. "It hardly matters, at any rate. What kind of life could she have with me? I'm old, bitter, and mean."

Remus chuckled at that. "I tried to tell Tonks the same thing. Look where that got me."

Severus looked at the cup of tea in his hands, admitting painfully, quietly, "I am not you."

Remus sighed, regarding the man who’d once considered him an enemy. "She's not asking you to be anyone but _you_ , Severus. So just be _you._ Trust your gut ... you're rather good at that, as I recall."

… 

"But he just left," Hermione continued, finally sitting down on the couch beside her friend. "After we kissed ... he walked away. He said that he was ‘sorry, but he was no good for me’." Hermione shook her head sadly, learning forward to rest her forehead in her palm. "He doesn't even see how good of a man he is, Ginny. How much he means to Samantha … and to me."

Ginny leaned closer to Hermione, placing her hand on her friend's shoulder. "So make him see."

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know how ... I wouldn't even know where to start."

Ginny smiled softly. "Hermione, you are the most resilient and determined woman that I know. If anyone can get through to that man, it’s you. Just trust your gut ... you're good at that."

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, it got super cheesy at the end there. And that might be my least cliffhanger-ey chapter yet … maybe?
> 
> Will these two figure out how to get past their baggage and just be happy? Time will tell.
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Severus have their first date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My initial author’s note for this chapter said that I “might have to make this around 20 chapters, but we were getting close to the end”. … Oh, how naive I was. 
> 
> Also, I feel like reading this chapter de-aged me a few years. I giggled a few doing my edits. You have been warned.

Hermione didn't see Severus again until Monday morning breakfast. He barely managed to look her way, and was clearly uncomfortable, but at least he had shown up. Hermione took this as a good sign.

Samantha was very excited to see him again, sharing with him her adventures that he’d missed while he’d been “busy working”, and asking him what sort of potions he makes for the school. Hermione watched the two surreptitiously out of the corner of her eye, not wanting to compound his awkwardness, but grateful that he still responded to Samantha’s questions with sincerity and honesty, however difficult it was for him. 

Fleur came after breakfast to take Samantha while Hermione was in class, leaving Hermione alone with the thoughts and lesson plans.

If she did what Ginny suggested - what her heart ached for - and took a chance on Severus and lost, she risked not only ruining their working relationship and Samantha getting hurt, she could also wind up hurt. She hadn’t taken a chance on any romance since she found out she found out she was pregnant with Samantha. The idea of putting her heart out there was just too much.

If she did what her head told her and took a step back, analyzed the situation and set clear and unwavering friendship boundaries, Samantha would be disappointed - perhaps even devastated - but both of their hearts would be intact in the long run. Her logical brain all-but screamed at her that this was the best, safest option. 

_ But what if you take a chance on him, and he comes through? _ a small, far less logical voice in her head asked.  _ What if you could just be happy? All three of you?  _

She forced it all to the back of her mind during her classes, not wanting her students to suffer because she couldn’t sort out the chaos that was her personal life. 

By the time lunch had come along, Hermione was mentally exhausted from simply trying to keep her mind focused. She slumped into her chair, fully expecting to be ignored once more, only to see Severus casually pushing her glass of pumpkin juice closer to her. "Thank you," she responded slowly, sitting up a little straighter and taking the glass, sipping carefully on the contents.

"Long day," he commented off-hand and Hermione could have sworn she heard Remus snickering from beside Severus.

"Yes, very," Hermione agreed slowly, feeling like she was treading water. They each had almost two hours before they had any more classes, and the day already seemed as though it would never end.

"The afternoon is well-suited for a stroll along the lake," Severus mused, poking at his unappealing food.

Hermione caught his meaning, smiling to herself and sitting up even more straight in her seat. "I can see how it would be."

A few moments later Severus stood from his seat, nodding to Hermione politely before turning to leave, smacking Remus in the back of the head as he left.

Hermione looked over at the chuckling Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor currently rubbing the back of his head. "What was that all about?"

Remus rolled his eyes as he got his laughter under control. "Oh, honestly Hermione ... you two are just a bit ridiculous. In the best way, of course," he added for good measure.

...

It wasn't too hard to spot him down by the lake. Aside from his height, his all-black ensemble was a stark contrast against the white all around him. Snow had begun falling earlier in the week, though the surface of the lake had not yet frozen. 

Hermione made her way over to her ... whatever he was, slowing when she was within a few yards of him. "It's lovely out here," she commented, making him turn towards her voice.

His eyes took her in from head to toe as she approached. "It certainly is."

Hermione smiled shyly, stopping once she had settled beside him. A moment of silence passed between them, the "Shall we?" she suggested, motioning for them to walk along the snow-covered grass by the lake.

They walked along beside the calm lake in silence for several minutes, listening to the birds chirping and the cool wind making the trees dance. In the distance they could just make out the sounds of the Whomping Willow’s creaking branches. Hermione had never really found herself in such a situation before - sure, she’d spent some wonderful time with Viktor Krum in her youth, but he’d always made his affection for her readily apparent, whereas her colleague was significantly more difficult to read. Severus, meanwhile, felt like a  _ bloody teenager _ once more, and couldn’t for the life of him figure out how he was meant to proceed. Finally she couldn't take it anymore. "I'm sorry if I overstepped before," she confessed in a rush of breath.

Severus turned to look at her. “In what way?"

Hermione blushed slightly. "When I, er, kissed you. I'm sorry ... I probably shouldn't have jumped on you like that, so I just … wanted to apologize."

Severus blinked down at her, watching her with wonder. "I wouldn't exactly call that 'jumping' on me," he replied.

Hermione looked down in embarrassment, and it occurred to Severus belatedly that she might have taken that for an unkind critique. _ Why are you so terrible at this, you old fool? _

"What I meant is that you weren't the only one responsible for the ... ah, kissing," he finished, slightly less than confidently. He felt like a damned teenager again, and was not entirely in love with the sensation.

Hermione’s face brightened, and a great deal of his apprehension faded away.

"That said, I do not wish to push you into something you are not ready for. If something were to … happen between us, I would want you to be sure," he insisted, feeling a little foolish.

Hermione nodded her agreement. "I would ask the same of you."

They continued walking in silence, neither really knowing where to start the next step.

Hermione fought with herself for several minutes before finally taking the proverbial leap and listening to her heart. "How about dinner?" she suggested.

Severus tilted his head. "Dinner … together … alone?"

Hermione forced herself not to roll her eyes at his sheer obtuseness. "We could start with something small, see where it goes?"

Severus nodded slowly after a moment, thanking his lucky stars that she wasn't rejecting him outright. "Friday night?"

Hermione's eyes widened in excitement but she reigned herself in before she shouted  _ ‘why not tonight?!’ _ . Baby steps. "That would be rather agreeable. Pick me up at seven o’clock?"

“I shall,” he replied with a small tip of his head, and they continued walking. After a moment and several glances towards her out of the side of his eyes, he held his arm out for her to take. He felt her slowly slide her hand into the crook of his arm, missing the way she hid her smile with her wild hair as he forced himself to remain focused on the path ahead of them.

She was warm, tucked against his side. Warm and … perhaps just right. 

...

"Mummy, I like this one," Samantha commented, pointing to one of the many outfits on the bed.

Hermione groaned, grabbing the garment off the bed for the third time after Samantha had retrieved it from the closet again. "Sweetheart, I love you dearly, but I'm not wearing bright pink on my first date with Severus," she informed her daughter, shoving the offending jumper back into the closet.

Samantha sighed dramatically, pouting but looking over the rest of the items on the bed.

Ginny waddled into the bedroom, makeup bag in hand. "She's right, kiddo. Snape's not really a pink sort of person."

Samantha looked even sadder, and off Hermione's flared eyes Ginny backpedaled.

"But I'm sure he loves it when you wear pink," she blustered out, deflating with relief when Samantha smiled again. Ginny sidled up beside Hermione, whispering, "Wow, does she ever think the world of him?"

Hermione all-but prayed the evening would go well. She had less than a half hour before Severus would arrive, and she was less-than-completely-not ready. Her nerves threatened to get the better of her, and she had to keep reminding herself to breathe.

"You didn't tell Harry, right?" Hermione asked again, searching through her pile of clothes.

Ginny snorted. "I'm not completely daft, Hermione."

"So what did you tell him?" she wondered, holding up a blue shirt with dark jeans.

Ginny pulled a black skirt off the bed, holding it up to Hermione's waist to see how it looked. "I told him Samantha and I were having a girl’s night while you went for drinks with your coworkers," Ginny answered with a wink. “It’s only a lie in plural form.” 

Hermione sighed, feeling a twinge of guilt for hiding her relationship - or at least the hint of a relationship - from her oldest friend. "Is it awful that I don't want anyone else to know yet?"

Ginny shrugged, sitting down on the bed and holding up two dresses, comparing them with a tilt of her head. "It's not like you're committing some unspeakable, evil act, Hermione. But I do think it's better that the boys don't know until you and Snape have figured out where this is going and what you are."

Hermione nodded; that had been her reasoning as well. Plus, she wanted to forestall another argument/confrontation with Ron. It seemed like more and more of their conversations lately ended in an argument, with her trying to protect his feelings. Eventually that dam was going to burst, and she wasn’t looking forward to it when it did. "Well, none of that is going to matter if I can't decide on a simple outfit!"

Ginny grinned wickedly. "Well, I'm not sure how Snape would feel about a clothing-optional evening, but we could always ask him."

Hermione tossed the sweater she held in her hands at her friend. "You are not even allowed to speak until you get your mind out of the gutter."

Samantha walked back over to the bed, oblivious to the less-than-PG comments from her aunt. In her hand she gripped a strappy, black top that ended in a lightly-layered flare. "What about this, Mummy?"

Hermione glanced down at the item, thinking back to the dark jeans she'd had before and the maroon dinner jacket Ginny was currently regarding. "Thank you, Sweetie. That's perfect."

Samantha smiled brightly, congratulating herself with a sharp nod and her hands on her hips. "You're welcome!"

...

Severus was precisely on time when his fingers rapped purposefully against Hermione's door. Since they had agreed on muggle attire for the evening, he wore a simple black dress shirt and a dark jacket, with black pants and a traveling cloak thrown over his arm. Even with the jacket and a traveling cloak, he felt almost naked, not entirely used to wearing so few layers. 

He heard footsteps approaching the door and forced his nerves to calm down, wearing what he hoped was a pleasant expression on his freshly shaven face.

Hermione smiled when she opened the door, dressed similarly to him with her black ensemble, with an added touch of obvious Gryffindor color from her jacket, though he found he didn’t much mind the color on her. "Hi," she greeted. "I just need to grab my purse."

Severus nodded, intent on waiting by the door but Samantha came rushing towards him, tugging him into the room with a big grin. "Hello Severus! Come in! When are you and Mummy going to be done with your play date?" she asked him with a mixture of excitement and innocence.

Hermione felt her soul leave her body, wishing for the briefest of moments that lightning would strike her down and save her from the embarrassment. Severus tried and failed to choke out a response. 

Ginny walked out of the bedroom with a barely concealed grin, saving the other two adults from trying to fumble out a response. "You'll be in bed by then, Sammy," she told her. "Come on, let's not hold up Mummy and  _ Severus _ ."

Snape glanced down at the pregnant Weasley, taking his hand back once the little girl had let go. "I take it you are well?" he asked politely.

Ginny smiled pleasantly. "Very well, thank you, Professor." She looked over at Hermione who was ready to go, and said with a wink, "Have fun."

Hermione gave Ginny a friendly glare, walking forward to kiss Samantha on the cheek. "Be good for Auntie Ginny. I love you."

Samantha nodded. "I love you too, Mummy." After a beat she smiled up at Severus. "Love you, Severus."

Severus began to feel hot under his collar, but managed to pat the small girl on the shoulder. "Yes, well, thank you ...ah, be good for your aunt."

Hermione ushered him out the door and away from the awkward situation. "So, where are we going?" Hermione asked, hoping they would gloss over the fact that her daughter had just told him that she loved him.

Severus cleared his throat, tentatively holding his arm out for her to take as they walked down the hall. "I thought we might get a private booth at the Three Broomsticks," he suggested, and then looked almost a little embarrassed. Hermione wondered if he was letting his walls down more around her, or if she had simply gotten better at reading his expressions. "My experience with fine dining establishments is a touch limited," he confessed. "I don't exactly get out much."

Hermione shook her head, pulling herself closer to him while they walked. "The Three Broomsticks sounds lovely. Besides, I've been kind of a hermit myself."

As they walked the path to Hogsmeade, Hermione couldn't help but remember the last time she'd been to the Three Broomsticks with Severus. She'd wound up drunk, had unwittingly allowed him access to her mind, nearly kissed him, and then ran to the bathroom to throw up. She sincerely hoped the evening didn't have the same ending in mind. Well, she wouldn't mind if there was perhaps more than a  _ near-kiss _ involved.

As the evening progressed, she was pleased that they didn't run out of things to talk about. They discussed their classes at first before branching off into books that they'd read. Hermione was pleasantly surprised that he, too, had read the entirety of  _ Hogwarts, a History _ more than once, among several other of her favorite titles. She felt much less abnormal after he'd told her that, and recommended some other titles he thought she would enjoy.

She found herself enjoying the easy nature of the banter they experienced when discussing favorite authors and fellow professors, both agreeing vehemently that Slughorn should remain retired.

Hermione found herself wishing she'd requested a private booth any of the other times she'd come with her friends to the Three Broomsticks ... it was much quieter tucked away where they were, and it made the setting much more intimate.

"So, is being a Muggle Studies professor everything you could have hoped for?" he asked her while they ate.

Hermione nodded slowly, considering the question and all it entailed. "It's good," she stated. "I mean, it's not exactly where I pictured my life would end up, but then again, none of my life has been predictable. I can't really complain."

Severus regarded her thoughtfully, unable to help the next question that came out of his mouth. "Is there something else that you wanted to be doing?"

Hermione shrugged in response. "I don't know. I mean, there are a lot of things I used to think about doing, but after Samantha ... I never really got to pursue them."

"Such as ...?" Severus wondered.

Hermione thought back to when she'd graduated, thinking of all the plans she'd had for herself. "Well, after I graduated I had arranged an internship with the Ministry, and then was going to take a winter semester at the local muggle college. Once I finished four years there, I was going to apply at Hogwarts for an apprenticeship."

Severus nodded, intrigued. "In what field?"

Hermione looked sheepish for a moment. "Actually, I had thought about apprenticing in Potions ... with you."

He was silent for a long moment. As the seconds ticked by, Hermione expected him to tell her what a foolish notion that would be, that she wouldn't be cut out for an advanced Potions apprenticeship, that he didn’t take on apprentices, as he surely would have done all those years ago. When he finally did speak, it was to simply ask, "So, what's stopping you?"

Hermione blinked. "Pardon?"

Severus took a drink out of his glass of wine before explaining. "What's stopping you now from applying for an apprenticeship? I'm not sure what muggle courses you would be taking, but both Minerva and I would have no qualms approving you for an apprenticeship, I am certain your grades in the subject were adequate enough that you wouldn't need to do a repeat course."

Hermione stared at him as though he’d suddenly grown two heads.

"Yes?" he inquired.

She choked out a laugh before she spoke. "You couldn't have given me this kind of encouragement when I was a student?"

Severus shrugged. "I don't really  _ do _ encouragement."

Hermione laughed outright at that. "I noticed."

"Yes, well ... despite all that, why don't you apply for one now? I'm certain it could be worked into your schedule, if it's something that interests you," Severus suggested. So calmly, easily … as though it were the most simple notion in the world

_ And why shouldn’t it be? _ Hermione took it all in, feeling her heart swell while her mind raced. "Um, I don’t really know what to think about it all right now, but I'll definitely consider it. Thank you, Severus. Your confidence … it means a lot to me."

Severus nodded, resuming his meal, feeling something suspiciously like happiness creeping its way into his chest.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possibly the fluffiest chapter yet, but I think we all needed that, especially these two, after all the drama and stress they’ve had to go through to get to here. 
> 
> There might still be a few bumps along the way, but they’ll get there.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please share your comments below and let me know what you think!
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samantha invites Severus over for dinner before Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For timeline purposes, Severus and Hermione’s first date was November 22nd. My edits have changed a few things around, which forced me to do math … I hate math. But I love these two dorks. 
> 
> Also, I couldn’t find a concrete date range for the Christmas holidays at Hogwarts, so I’ve had their holidays start on the 18th, one week before Christmas.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Severus and Hermione had been having dinner for nearly 4 weeks. They went out one or two times a week, but had yet to really call it 'dating'. They hadn't even really kissed (but for a few goodnight pecks on the cheek) since that night by the Astronomy Tower, and with every evening that passed in each other’s company, both struggled to find the right segue into furthering their romantic relationship.

With Christmas break upon them, there were very few students who had remained at Hogwarts over Christmas break. Roughly half of the teaching staff remained to help with supervision, or simply because they had no family to spend the holidays with.

Neither Hermione nor Severus had the self-assurance to make the next/first move, and so they kept on the way they had been, until one Thursday morning the week before Christmas, Samantha asked Severus if he would have dinner with them.

Severus glanced briefly at the teachers and students within the Great Hall who had heard the child ask her question, glaring at each of them until they looked away. Hermione saw Minerva smiling to herself, but the older woman thankfully didn't say anything.

Severus peered down at the girl situated between himself and Hermione, trying to avoid her pleading eyes. "When would this meal take place?" he asked, keeping his face stoic.

Samantha crinkled her nose, turning around to look at her mother. "Mummy, what day can Severus eat with us?"

Hermione smiled at her little matchmaking daughter, wishing - not for the first time - that her child would give her some warning to what she was going to say before she said it. "Well, we'll be at the Burrow Sunday through Wednesday, why don't you ask him over Friday evening?" Hermione suggested, glancing at Severus for confirmation. He didn't object, so she just waited for Samantha to ask him. To date, he had yet to be able to refuse her anything.

Samantha turned back around towards Severus, blinking up at him with hopeful eyes. "Severus, will you have dinner with us on Friday?"

Severus casually scratched a phantom itch on his knee under the table before he answered, "Yes, that would be agreeable."

“Perfect!” Samantha smiled brightly, diving back into her pudding.

Severus glanced around the table before taking another spoonful out of his dish, working it around in his mouth disdainfully, and then placing his spoon back down, pushing away from the table and walking out of the Great Hall, his dark robes billowing out behind him as he moved.

Hermione asked Remus in a hurried voice if he would watch Samantha for a moment, and after he nodded happily she walked quickly out the side door Severus had exited out of, jogging to catch up to him. "What's wrong?" she asked him, placing her hand gently on his forearm to stop him.

"It’s nothing," he replied steadily, looking straight ahead.

"If it's about dinner, I'm sorry. I didn't know she was going to ask you that," Hermione told him honestly. “I know we haven’t talked about our …  _ this _ , as far as Samantha’s concerned …”

Severus shook his head to the side, feeling the warmth from her hand searing into his arm. "It's not just that, I ..." He pursed his lips. "I am constantly finding myself unable to articulate myself properly around you, Hermione," Severus confessed.

Hermione tried not to smile. "Is that all?"

He shook his head once more, searching for the right words. "These dinners we've been having, they have been enjoyable, have they not?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, but I don't -"

Severus stopped her with a finger on her lips. "But I believe we both can agree there had been a certain amount of detachment ... a lack of progression in certain areas. Do you agree?"

Hermione was speechless, gone nearly cross-eyed while staring at the finger that still rested on her lips.

Severus drew his finger away, thinking he'd offended her.

"S-sorry," Hermione muttered, feeling every movement in her lips as she said the word. "Um, yeah, I suppose I agree."

He nodded. "And would you also agree that has been working fairly well for us?"

"What, the  _ lack _ of progression?" she clarified.

Again he nodded.

"Well ... things haven't been bad, if that's what you mean," Hermione mused, wondering where the conversation was headed. Sure, they hadn’t exactly jumped into passion, but judging by the way he’d kissed her back at the Astronomy Tower, he wasn’t opposed to their relationship becoming physical. At least, she hoped not. 

Severus dipped his head down. "I believe it is safe to say that neither of us would want to negatively alter the amicable nature of our relations."

Hermione blinked, working through what he'd said to her. "Wait ... you think you're going to do something to spoil this?" she asked him.

"It is inevitable," Severus responded, attempting to pull away from her gentle grip.

Hermione sensed the motion, sliding her hand up his arm and past his elbow to clasp his tricep, gulping at the taut feeling of it under her fingers. She shook her head, tugging lightly on his arm until he looked at her. "You're not going to spoil this ... there's nothing you could do that would change the way I -"

He cut her off, stepping back and shoving the sleeve of his robes up, revealing his arm to her. Revealing the Dark Mark branded onto his skin in eternal, black ink. It had faded after Voldemort’s defeat, but it would always be there. "Look me in the eye and say that this doesn't disgust you. Tell me that it wouldn't affect the way you see me ... if Samantha were to know what it meant, tell me it wouldn't change her opinion of me." He shook his head, gripping his forearm around the Mark. "This will always be who I am, Hermione, and I can't change that. No matter how much I want to, how much I try to fool myself ... you and Samantha ... I won't subject your daughter to that person. I shouldn’t have put either of us in this position."

He began to drop his sleeve, turning his head to walk away but Hermione gripped his arm once more, tighter, touching his bare skin below the mark. "I know who you are Severus," she told him with a shaky voice.

He looked back at her slowly to see her eyes brimming with tears, but couldn't bring himself to brush them away.

"I have known who you are for a very long time. Underneath all of your sarcasm, your cruel comments, and your sour demeanor, you are a man who always does what is right. A man who would do whatever it takes to ensure that good is being done, and that the people he cares for are protected. The man who accepted this," she spoke, touching a finger to the mark and making him hiss in response. "That man is gone. He has been gone for years. You think you need to hold onto this belief that you are such a terrible person, but you're not. I see it in the way that you are with Samantha ... you don't have to be all smiles and sunshine to be a good person, and you’ve never needed to change who you are for her to want to be around you. She likes you just as you are."

Hermione looked as deep into her eyes as she could without leaning up to grip his forehead to hers. "I see it in the way you look at me, too" she breathed. "When you look at me, especially when you think I’m not watching ... I feel whole and beautiful, and I feel like anything in the world is possible. And maybe that's foolish, and I'm sure you'd say that's youthful naivety, but when you look at me ... I don't see the Dark Mark on your skin, or the things you've done in the past that you're still atoning for ... I see  _ you _ . The good  _ and _ the bad. I'm not disgusted by you, but you're right about one thing: this brand on your skin does affect the way I see you."

Severus looked down, for the moment disregarding every wonderful thing she had just said.

"I look at this mark, and it re-enforces every good belief that I've ever had about you ... because you overcame all of that bad in your life, all of that hurt, and become this wonderful man that I'm looking at now, and if you can do that, then maybe I can too," she told him. "And if there was anyone I'd want to try with ... it would be you."

Severus looked slowly into her eyes, full of surprise but unable to speak.

Hermione chuckled, wiping her damp cheeks with the back of her free hand. "Look, I don't think either of us knows where this is going, and I'm not suggesting we get married or anything, but we could try -"

She didn't get to finish. Her vision was clouded with wisps of black hair and pale skin a moment before she realized that he was kissing her. She pressed herself up on her toes, reminded of her height advantage during their last kiss on the steps to the tower. She felt her body leaning into him, pressing her right hand against his chest while the other caressed his Dark Mark gently before wandering its way up his shoulder and onto his neck. 

It was a brief but powerful kiss, leaving Hermione a little dazed when he pulled away.

"A student could walk around the corner," he explained in a breathy whisper, looking down at her while his nose brushed against hers.

Hermione nodded sadly, wishing she could stay pressed against him for longer.

"Otherwise, I would be all for ..."

"Yeah," Hermione sighed. "Me too."

Severus stepped back, removing his arms from where they'd perched on her waist and clearing his throat. "I'll see you at lunch, then?"

Hermione nodded, needing to compose herself before returning to her daughter.

He walked past her towards his classroom, his fingers brushing across her side when he did, letting her know that whatever happened, they were, at least, on the same page about their interest in continuing that moment.

… 

Friday evening arrived quickly, leaving Hermione little time to decorate her rooms. She doubted that Severus would appreciate the festive cheer, but she wanted the evening to be memorable, and that called for a certain amount of festivity.

Samantha got a chance to wear one of the outfits her Uncle Harry had bought her for the holiday, a pretty red dress with a black sash and matching shoes. Hermione’s dress matched her daughter's only in color, for it was neither as poofy nor as frilly, and had soft, wavy sleeves that just barely curved over her shoulders, whereas her daughter's dress had thick straps that left her arms bare.

Not wanting to scare off Severus with her mediocre cooking abilities, Hermione had requested that Dobby bring them whatever they were planning to serve for dinner that night to Hermione's rooms, but to bring enough for three. Dobby had winked in response, all too thrilled to carry out her request.

Hermione had agonized over setting up mistletoe, but in the end had given in to Samantha's overjoyed pleas, placing it above her daughter's room instead of her own, and by the door to the bathroom, figuring those were two places she was least likely to catch the Potions Master unawares.  _ Assuming he even followed the tradition,  _ Hermione thought to herself, doubting that he did. 

Her daughter’s insistence on the mistletoe’s presence made her suspicious about the conversations she’d been having with her Auntie Ginny. Samantha just grinned widely when Hermione finished hanging it up, skipping away to play with Crookshanks.

Hermione put the finishing touches on the table she'd set up in the dining room off of the kitchen that she'd never really used, lighting the candles and at the last moment enchanting them to hover high around the table.

She had pulled out the tree they'd used for their first Christmas alone - even though they'd ended up joining the Weasleys for Christmas Eve that year anyway - and decorated it with transfigured ornaments and flashing lights.

Hermione took in her appearance once more time at her bedroom mirror, running a hand through her curls - she'd managed to subdue them into obedience - and smoothing out her dress. She eyed the package on her dresser, running a finger self-consciously over the delicate, green wrapping.

They hadn't agreed to exchange gifts, but she'd gotten him one anyway while she and Samantha were shopping with Ginny and Harry the day before. Harry had been drooling over the new Quidditch supplies, leaving the girls alone for a half hour or so. Her hormone-addled friend had given her the push she'd needed to purchase the item, and it now rested beside her jewelry box, waiting to be opened and loved.

Hermione sighed, nervous that she wouldn’t find the right moment to give it to him.

The short rap of knuckles on the front door alerted Hermione to his presence and she stepped out of her room, shutting off the light and closing the door. Samantha hopped excitedly, waiting impatiently for her mother to welcome their guest.

She swept the door open, smiling brightly when she saw him on the other side of the door. "Come on in," she welcomed, stepping back for him to enter.

Severus tipped his head in greeting, moving inside so she could close the door, one hand tucked behind his back. His eyes drifted over her form, taking in her appearance in a way that his dilated pupils could not hide. "You look ... lovely," he commented, straightening his back and clearing his throat.

Hermione smiled warmly. "Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself," she replied honestly.

"Do you like my dress, Severus?" Samantha asked, twirling in a circle.

Severus allowed the tiniest of smiles to grace his features for a second. "You look lovely as well, Mademoiselle Samantha." 

Samantha grinned happily, the wheels turning visibly inside her head before she replied, “ _ Merci! _ ”

They heard the telltale  _ pop! _ of the food arriving, and Hermione glanced towards the dining room. "Okay, Samantha, time to get washed up." She turned on the water in the kitchen, pulling the stool out from under the sink so her daughter could reach. "You can just put your cloak on the hook by the door," she told Severus while she helped her daughter wash.

Severus nodded moving towards the door before pausing, his hand on one of his pockets.

"Is something wrong?" Hermione asked, turning the water off and drying both of their hands.

He looked awkward for a moment before pulling to box-shaped packages out of his pocket. "I believe it's customary to bring a gift of sorts when invited over around the holidays," Severus stated, hanging his cloak up while holding onto the boxes with this other hand. "I thought I'd give you these before we ate."

Hermione smiled, suddenly relieved  _ and _ happy she'd bought him a present.

Severus stepped forward, handing the shorter package to Samantha.

"I get a present?" she asked with wide eyes.

He nodded down at her, and then froze in place when she lurched forward and hugged his leg. He didn't have time to react as she detached herself as quickly as she'd jumped on him, running for her stool to sit down and open her present.

Hermione walked over to him smiling. "That's so sweet of you," she told him. "You didn't have to do that."

He shrugged, hesitating a moment before holding the second box out for her to take. "It might be a bit presumptuous of me, but I was hoping you'd wear it ..."

She opened the box carefully, wanting to prolong the moment. Once she finally got through the wrapping and opened the box, her breath caught at the sight of the silver chain and locket. She could barely look at it without trembling, never mind take it out of the box.

"It's too much," Severus announced, feeling stupid.

Hermione shook her head, gripping the material of his vest against his waist and leaning against him. "It's beautiful ..."

He let her rest against him, eager for her warmth. He carefully took the necklace out of the box and placed the packaging on the small kitchen table. He flicked open the locket, showing an enchanted center which held visages of her and Samantha, and then the pictures would fade to reveal a serpent on one half of the locket, and a lion on the other.

Hermione smiled, asking him to help her put it on. She held her hair out of the way and turned around, shivering as his fingers brushed against her skin while he worked the clasp.

For as nervous as he felt, his fingers did not betray him as he secured the necklace. The weight of the locket settled gently against her heart. His fingers released the chain, brushing over her neck softly before she dropped her hair down again. He pressed a chaste kiss against her shoulder, a shiver running through both of them.

Both of them had forgotten they weren't alone until Samantha tugged on Hermione's dress.

"Mummy, look what I got!" she exclaimed happily, showing her the open box.

Hermioned blinked her eyes to clear the light daze she’d fallen into, glancing down at the present her daughter had received. She chuckled at the item immediately, pulling it out of the box to place on her daughter's wrist. The bracelet was silver, like Hermione's necklace, but there was not a lion in sight. The chain interlocked into several slithering snakes, dancing around in a circle, the light catching their eyes every time Samantha moved her arm.

"It's an enchanted bracelet, Samantha," Severus explained. "It will grow as you grow, so that you can wear it as long as you like."

"I love it! Thanks, Severus!" Samantha cried, hugging Severus again before rushing into the dining room to admire the silver snakes in the candlelight.

"Subtle," Hermione commented, causing the Head of Slytherin House to smirk.

… 

Samantha fought off sleep as long as she could, wanting to stay up and listen to her mother and - she  _ hoped _ \- father talking about random things, but she yawned every few seconds and could barely keep her eyes open, and finally gave in to her mother's prodding.

She pulled them along with her into her room, wanting them both to say goodnight to her. She felt her mother pause as they walked across the threshold to her room, and leaned back to look up at why she had stopped. Her mother seemed to be staring at the mistletoe she'd set up, and Samantha remembered her Uncle Fred joking about what it was used for. Her eyes widened at the idea, and she stopped, making sure the other two were stuck in the doorway.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, glancing from Severus to the mistletoe and back again. He very clearly knew exactly what it was for, as he watched her with eyes that were deep with something she thought might be lust.

"Mummy, you're supposed to smooch him!" Samantha offered, nudging her mother.

Hermione blushed at that, feeling more than a little ridiculous about her daughter giving her kissing advice. Severus didn't seem to object, so she leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips against his, pulling away far sooner than either of them would have liked. "Alright Sweetie, now it's time for bed."

Samantha was pleased enough with the kiss and submitted to her mother's request, moving over to her dresser to find pajamas.

Severus left the room to give them their privacy, wandering into the living room and thinking over the events that had led him to that moment. A little girl who held so much power over him, and a woman who kissed him as though she’d been doing it for years. He'd been nervous about attending the dinner that evening, not wanting to make a commitment when he wasn't sure of himself, but as he stood in Hermione Granger's living room waiting for her to come back after putting her daughter to bed, he couldn't make himself regret his decision.

So much had changed in a matter of months ... he didn't know what to do with himself anymore. He hated to follow Remus Lupin's advice about anything, but for the moment, he allowed himself to follow his gut instead of his brain.

… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been my least-edited chapter so far. That’s a strange feeling.
> 
> The next chapter has a wee bit of drama in it … 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas at The Burrow gets off to a shaky start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has continued to read and share their comments on this story. I’m very humbled, and especially thankful to those who read the original version of the story and have returned for this updated version. 
> 
> One of things I wanted to point out from the last chapter was the necklace Snape gives her. While he is certainly enjoying the Slytherin traits he believes he’s seeing in her, the Slytherin and Gryffindor emblems on the locket were initially meant to represent Hermione and himself, rather than Hermione and Samantha. Having said that, those who read the (unfinished) sequel to this know that there was a bit of foreshadowing there as well. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter … as mentioned, there will be some drama. And perhaps another cliffhanger ;)

Hermione brushed her fingers gently over the locket around her neck, smiling fondly before tucking it under her sweater and opening the front door to the Burrow. She absolutely loved the gift Severus had given her, but she wanted to keep it to herself a little bit longer. She wished she'd gotten him something more personal than a book, but he had sworn that he found  _ Morgana le Fay’s Guide to Healing Potions and Spells _ "perfectly enjoyable and very much appreciated". 

On their third dinner together (it still felt weird calling them dates) he had mentioned that it was one of the first books he’d read when he’d begun his own Potions Apprentice, but he didn't own a copy. It had seemed like fate when she'd found it in the bookstore with Ginny. She wasn’t sure if it came close to the price he must have spent on the gifts for her and Samantha, but it was a first edition. Her Gringott’s account might have cringed at the expense, but it was worth it to see one of his rare, true smiles. Goodness, were those a sight to behold. 

"You're here! Come in, come in!" Molly Weasley greeted as they stepped into the warm house, wrapping them up in her arms the second they had the door closed. The smell of food from the kitchen filled the entire house with a blissful, delicious aroma. 

"Happy Christmas, Grandma Molly!" Samantha greeted cheerfully, to Molly’s excessive delight.

“I reckon I won’t ever get tired of hearing that, luv,” Molly added, her worn eyes crinkling with her wide smile as she kissed the little girl soundly on the cheek. “Happy Christmas, my dearest!”

Hermione smiled down at her daughter. "Remember, Sweetie, it's not Christmas Eve until Tuesday," she reminded her again.

Samantha sighed in the exaggerated fashion that most three-year olds do. "Okay, Mummy."

Ginny came waddling in from the living room belly-first, smiling at the three of them. "Hello there! How's my favorite niece?" 

Samantha’s smile jumped back onto her face. "She's good."

"Your Uncles are outside playing Quidditch if you want to go watch," Ginny suggested.

"Can I Mummy?" Samantha asked, bouncing with excitement.

Hermione gave her nod of approval, reminding Samantha to keep her hat and mitts on. 

Molly took Samantha's hand, offering to lead her outside. "So, how are you feeling?" Hermione asked Ginny, gazing at her swollen belly and pulling off her own hat and scarf.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Seven months in? I am so ready to be done being pregnant."

Hermione remembered it all too well. “It really is quite unfair, isn’t it? When you’re pregnant, it feels like time is moving agonizingly slowly … then after they’re born, time moves much too fast.” Her hand drifted to her own stomach, unconsciously remembering what it had felt like when Samantha was in there. Like Ginny, she too had been desperate for her pregnancy to hurry up and be done with, but now she found herself almost missing those days ...

Ginny glanced around before saying in a quieter voice, "So, did you give it to him?"

It took Hermione a few seconds to pull herself out of her reminiscing and understand what Ginny had asked. "The book?" Hermione wondered

Ginny’s head bobbed quickly in response. “Yes,  _ the book _ .”

Hermione couldn’t help the happy smile from forming on her face. “Yes,” she replied, looking around herself before reaching into her sweater for the necklace he'd given her. "He gave me this."

Ginny squealed with delight, waddling closer and reaching forward to open the locket. "Aww, that's so sweet!" she exclaimed, watching the figures fade away and reshape themselves.

Hermione blushed, adding with a grin, "He got Samantha a bracelet, too."

Ginny’s eyes shone with glee, opening her mouth to say something when Harry walked in, holding a water bottle in his hand, his hair sweaty from the Quidditch game they’d just finished.

"What are you two up to?" he asked them casually. 

Ginny closed the locket quickly, straightening up and pulling her hands to her swollen belly. "Just girl stuff," she told her husband, looking off to the side.

Harry looked back and forth between the two of them, sighing and setting down his bottle. He fixed his eyes on Hermione and tucked his hands into his pocket in an effort to seem non-confrontational. "You know, I'm not going to freak out."

Hermione glanced at him curiously, feeling a nervous flush creep up her neck. "Freak out about what?"

Harry glanced towards the door he'd come in, seeing Ron and the rest of the Weasleys caught up in conversation. After a moment, he said quietly, "I know, Hermione."

She swallowed the excessive saliva that had built up in her mouth, fiddling with her fingers, pursing her lips. “Know what ...?"

He took a slow step forward, sighing before he spoke, "A couple weeks ago I was down in Hogsmeade, visiting Aberforth. He asked me to drop something off for Madame Rosmerta, so I went over to the Three Broomsticks. I saw you heading out just after I came in, and you weren't alone."

Hermione blinked furiously, trying to think of a believable reason for why she'd been there without having to tell Harry the truth.

"I'm not going to freak out, Hermione ... and I know that Ginny hasn't been desperate for some girl time while you've been going out for "drinks with colleagues"," he told her, a hint of sadness etched on his face. "If you've found someone that makes you happy, you can just tell me."

Hermione breathed out slowly, looking into her friend's brilliant green eyes before finally admitting, "I've been having dinner with Severus Snape for … a while now."

Harry nodded, his face not portraying a hint of negative emotion. "Okay."

Hermione stared back at him trepidatiously. "... Okay?"

Harry shrugged. "Would you rather I scream at the top of my lungs about what a horrible mistake I think you're making?"

She shook her head.

Harry smiled, glancing at his wife who still looked guilty. "Good, 'cause I'm not going to. I’m happy for you … both of you. You both deserve happiness after … well, after everything.” 

Hermione felt like she could cry, and it looked like Ginny already was.  _ Damn hormones _ , she thought, not sure what she could blame her impending tears on. She closed the distance between herself and Harry, wrapping her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered into his shoulder. 

Harry gave her a tight squeeze, his embrace as strong and welcoming as it ever was. He caught his wife dabbing at her eyes, and eventually let go of Hermione to pass her a tissue. “He does make you happy, right?”

Hermione tipped her head in agreement, her touching the locket that hung just above her breasts. “He does …”

“Good,” Harry said, nudging her shoulder with a light bump of his own. “That said, I can see why you guys thought you needed to keep it from everyone," Harry added, glancing out the window behind them.

Hermione worried her bottom lip, thinking about the mass of Weasleys just outside the Burrow. "Yes, about that ... would you mind terribly ..."

"Not sharing this with Ron?" Harry finished.

"Yeah," she breathed out in a huff. "I will talk to him at some point, but I’d really like to avoid an argument with him over Christmas." She tucked her necklace carefully back under her sweater.

"Good luck with that," Fred said from behind her, and Hermione turned to see him and George coming in the side door.

"What?" Hermione asked, feeling her heart already speeding up.

"Just thought you might want a head's up that your daughter is telling everyone about the wonderful gift that 'Severus' got her for Christmas," George informed them, and Hermione looked out into the backyard with a sinking feeling in her gut as she saw Ron's face turn as deep a shade of red as his hair.

… 

There were very few times that Hermione had outright screamed at Ron in the past few years. The last time had been when Samantha had been a little over two years old, and Ron had apparated straight into the middle of their living room, landing practically on top of her daughter and knocking her down, resulting in many tears, a cut lip and a not entirely small bump on her head. Ever since then, she had ordered him never to apparate in uninvited. Given the other ways he’d continued to show up unannounced in her life, that single boundary was clearly not strict enough. 

She hadn't truly yelled at him since then, but that all changed the moment he proclaimed - in front of his family  _ and _ her daughter - that Snape was only using her for sex, and would toss her aside the moment he was done with her.

Hermione had growled, the fire in her eyes causing her to see more red than the hairs on his head. She’d stomped over to him, gripped his arm tightly in her grasp, and apparated them to the furthest corner of the Weasley's land, giving her plenty of room to scream at him without her daughter having to hear it.

"How dare you, Ronald Weasley?!" she shouted, stepping forward so she was directly in front of his face. Her diminished height made no difference, as the rage coursing through her veins and boiling her blood made him seem as though he were four feet tall. "Are you physically incapable of thinking before opening your mouth and spouting off ridiculous lies? In front of my daughter?!"

Ron replied nearly as haughtily, "It's not a lie, Hermione, can't you see that? He's got you all turned around, you're not thinking clearly. This isn’t like you!"

Hermione shook her head, shoving him back. "No, Ronald. You don’t get to act like you know me better than I know myself. I am sorry about the way that you found out, but I never told you about my relationship with him for good reason. I’ve been tip-toeing around you for years because I didn’t want to hurt you. I knew you’d react poorly, but this … this is unacceptable, Ronald. Absolutely unacceptable."

Ron hesitated, staring at her with distraught eyes. " _ Relationship _ ? ... No, you said that you weren't ready to be in a relationship after everything that happened," he told her with a hint of desperation in his voice. "I waited ..."

"I never  _ asked _ you to wait for me, Ronald," she gasped frustratedly, all-but tearing her hair out as she glared daggers at him. "You are one of my oldest friends, Ron, and I care for you dearly, but … there is never going to be anything more than friendship between us. Don't you understand that?"

“You don’t mean that, ‘Mione,” he tried, standing up straighter. “We were good together, before … we can be good again. I know we can.”

Hermione shook her head, standing her ground. “No, Ronald. I am not  _ yours _ . You need to figure out how to accept that and move on.”

Ron shook his head, stepping back towards her and gripping her arm. "No, ‘Mione ... you just don't see it," he told her. "It’s my own fault, I didn’t prove myself to you … You just need to see how much …" He pulled her forwards before she could react and sealed his mouth over hers. 

Her eyes widened in shock and fear, her entire body tightening, frozen in shock and something else … fear? Terror? A burning panic shot through her body, taking her back to that night in the alley, when she couldn’t move, couldn’t stop them ... 

Ron’s grip on her arm and the hand around the back of her neck held her steady as she squirmed against him, unable to pull away.

Hermione felt an odd heat on her chest, but her mind was too panicked to realize that it was the necklace against her breast that was heating up. Moments later she felt Ron being ripped away from her and nearly sobbed in relief. She looked around just in time to see Severus angle his fist squarely into Ron's nose. 

Ron crumpled to the ground and brought his hands quickly to his bloody nose while the former Death Eater glared down at him, a look of sheer, white-hot hatred on his face. Hermione instinctively moved beside Severus as he towered over the wincing redhead, his hands fisted, rage pulsating off of him in waves.

"If you ever even  _ think _ about laying so much as a  _ finger _ on her again, I will crush you like the pathetic weasel you are!" Severus Snape snarled, not caring how much anger he was showing. “Do I make myself clear?”

Ron glared at the man, gripping his wand as stealthily as he could before standing up. "You don't scare me, you miserable, old bat!" he countered, whipping the wand out and preparing to hex him.

Severus easily countered the attack, stunning Ron before he knew what happened. He resisted the urge to shove his foot into the younger man’s face, but only just. Hermione trembled beside him and he turned his body fully towards her, placing a hesitant hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Hermione glanced up at him, unable to believe Ron had tried to ... "No, not really," she told him honestly, trying to hold back her tears. Her earlier rage was gone and replaced with disgust, betrayal, fear, heartache … she couldn’t tell which emotion was stronger, only that her body felt completely and utterly weak.  _ He was supposed to be my friend. _

After a moment Severus slowly pulled her closer, unsure if she would want him to, but not knowing how else to comfort her in that situation.

Hermione stepped into his arms gratefully, letting the tears fall from her eyes as she hugged him tightly. They held each other together for a long time before Hermione slowly pulled her head away, leaving one arm around him and wiping her eyes and cheeks with the sleeve on the other. She looked up at him with shining eyes, wanting to thank him but she wasn't sure how. "How did you know?" she finally asked him.

Severus looked down at where her necklace was hidden by her shirt, confessing, "One of the charms that I placed on the necklace - and Samantha's bracelet - was to inform me if either of you was in distress ... it informs me automatically through this and leads me to you," he explained, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a simple watch. “It’s a safety feature only, it only activates when one of you feels a strong sense of danger. It cannot be used for any other purpose.”

Hermione let her head drop forward, breathing against his chest.  _ Of course he would add something so practical and protective to a gift _ . She let herself breathe in his scent and bask in the comforting familiarity before she sighed and pulled back a bit. "I should get back to Samantha," she told him. "Ron said some things, that ... well, she shouldn't have had to hear."

Severus glared at the still unconscious wizard on the ground, asking, "What did he say to her?"

Hermione looked away, embarrassed.

He pulled her chin softly back to face him. "Tell me," he asked quietly.

Hermione sighed, looking down but not pulling away from his finger. "Samantha was showing everyone the bracelet you gave her and Ron got … well, he was stupid. He announced to everyone that you were ... that you only wanted me for sex, and that you would discard me the moment you got it."

Severus growled deep in his chest, fighting the urge to kick the unconscious boy on the ground behind him. "There could not be less truth to that," he told her.

Hermione nodded, getting a handle on her emotions. "I know that," she told him. "I  _ know _ .” She glanced in the direction of The Burrow. “I should get back and make sure Samantha's okay."

Severus nodded, flicking his wand behind him to levitate Ron's body, banishing the wizard towards the Burrow. He took Hermione's arm with her nod of consent and apparated them to the front door of the house.

"I should leave," he told her once they arrived, stepping back from her. “I’m sure it will be unpleasant enough inside without my added appearance.”

Hermione wasn't ready for him to leave just yet. She grabbed his hand with hers, squeezing it gently. "Wait," she pleaded. "Just stay for a minute ... Samantha would love it if you said hello. And the others … well, Harry and Ginny already know. I have to believe the others will come around … eventually. Can we try …?"

Severus nodded after a moment, allowing her to link her fingers with his despite the rapid beating of his heart against his chest. 

Hermione opened the door, stepping back into the front room with Severus.

"What in the sodding hell happened?" Ron Weasley's voice bellowed out when they opened the door. His body must have crashed into the house after Snape banished him, judging by the state of the broken window behind him and the shards of glass he was shaking out of his hair.

Every inhabitant of the living room turned to see Hermione and Severus stop in the doorway, all eyes flickering to their joined hands.

… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know … again with the cliffhangers. One day I’ll stop … but not this day! 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	21. Chapter Twenty One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Severus deal with the fallout of Ron's actions, and Hermione gets some advice.

Hermione could feel everyone’s eyes on her and her companion, feeling the weight of their eyes on their joined hands. She allowed Severus to slowly extract his hand from hers, staring at the scene laid out before her.

Ron was shaking bits of glass out of his hair with an infuriated expression on his still-reddening face, while Molly whipped her wand out to repair the window. Charlie, Bill, Fred and George stared at their old Potions professor with disbelieving and shocked looks on their faces. Harry and Ginny looked worriedly between Ron and Hermione while Fleur attempted to calm a squirming, upset Samantha, and Arthur attempted to soothe his wife. To say the atmosphere was tense would be a definite understatement.

"Should have stunned him permanently," Severus muttered in Hermione's ear, his hand drifting to grip his wand tightly.

Ron glared at the older man before turning to Harry for back up. "He attacked me!"

Harry raised a brow, glanced at Hermione for confirmation.

"That is an utter lie, Ronald, and you know it!" she spoke evenly glaring at him with unconcealed rage before directing her attention to Ginny. "Ginny, Fleur, can you please take Samantha upstairs?"

Ginny nodded, glancing suspiciously at her brother before moving to help her sister-in-law take the uncooperative child upstairs. Everyone else watched in silence, waiting, seemingly afraid to move.

Once they were out of earshot Hermione rounded on Ron. "How dare you?! What the hell do you think you have to be blustering about?" she asked scathingly, feeling much more secure with Severus next to her. "After what you just tried to do, you're lucky Severus only stunned you!"

All eyes turned to Ron.

"What is she talking about, son?" Arthur asked.

Ron shook his head. "It's him! I didn’t mean to … he's messed with her head! She's not thinking straight!" he defended, staring around him hoping for some support.

Molly glanced between Hermione and her son, her expression falling from worry to anxious disappointment. “You tell the truth now, Ron. What happened?”

Ron shook his head. “Don’t turn this on me. We can’t honestly be expected to act as though this  _ thing _ between them is normal! It’s not right! He’s taking her away from m- … from us!”

Severus took a menacing step forwards, ignoring Hermione's half-hearted request to stay back. Ron's eyes widened in anger and fear, but he remained where he was. "You simpering, impotent disgrace," he spat, glaring down at the younger boy. "First you force yourself on your  _ friend _ , and then you attempt to cover it up with half-baked lies and ill-conceived declarations of ownership? I should hex you until you shrivel up into the worthless piece of vermin you are!"

His wand went up, but Arthur stepped in his way, holding his wandless hands up in an attempt to keep the peace. "Now wait just a minute, Snape," he said, holding his hand up. "There must be some mistake. Ron might be a tad impetuous, but he wouldn't ... not after ..." Arthur glanced at Hermione who could only shake her head at his desire to believe the best in his youngest son. Several emotions passed Arthur Weasley’s face before he slowly turned his head back to his son. "Ron? … Son, how could you?"

Ron looked away in near-shame. "It wasn't like that ..."

Hermione shook her head, trying to blink away her resurfacing tears. "It was  _ exactly _ like that," Hermione snapped. "You just won't get it through your head that I don't love you like that!"

Ron scoffed, trying to step around the men in front of him. "Oh, but you love  _ him _ ?"

Hermione remained silent, neither confirming nor denying Ron's beliefs. Nothing she said either way would matter to him … not really. Her heart broke at the irreparable fracture in their relationship.

"Ron, that’s enough now," his father ordered in a shaky voice, but Molly's voice screeched over top of his, making just about everyone in the room jump.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, how could you!?" she shrieked, pushing her husband out of the way to pull Ron to face her by his shoulders, gripping his jumper tightly. "After everything that Hermione went through, after everything that she sacrificed ... how could you do that? She’s your friend - she’s family!  _ What is the matter with you?! _ "

Ron looked away, unable to meet his mother's eyes.

Molly shook him roughly, losing her patience, but Ron still didn't answer. She finally let go, regarding him with sad and angered eyes before setting her jaw and steeling her gaze. "You need to sort things out for yourself, Ronald Weasley ... away from here."

Ron turned to look at her in surprise. "You're kicking me out?"

Molly shook her head, fighting back her tears. "No ... I'm telling you to leave before you make things worse for yourself. Before you do any more  _ damage _ to this family. You need to get some perspective ... and if you don't leave, or apologize, or something, I just might let Severus tear you a new one."

Ron looked around at everyone in the room - brothers, parents, friends - all of whom watched him with matching, unsympathetic expressions before he nodded, stepped away from his mother and apparated away.

Severus growled low in his throat before stepping away from Arthur Weasley and returning to the front door.

Hermione looked down at her feet. "I'm sorry," she offered softly to everyone in the room, on the precipice of letting her emotions get the better of her. "I didn't mean for this to spoil your Christmas."

Molly shook her head, stepping towards the smaller girl and taking her in her arms. "You didn't spoil anything, dear. Ron needs to get his head on straight." She pulled back to hold Hermione and arm's length, sighing sadly. "Oh, Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. We all knew Ron was hung up on you, but we never thought he'd go that far ..."

Hermione nodded sadly. "I’d hoped he’d figure it out eventually ... but I guess I was too afraid to hurt him."

“That burden should not fall on your shoulders alone, my dear,” Molly assured her, pressing a hand against her cheek and holding her gaze until she was convinced that Hermione believed it.

Severus glanced down at the two uncomfortably, wanting to leave. "Hermione, now that the ... crisis has been averted, I should be leaving."

Molly glanced over at him. "Don't be silly, Severus. You're here now, and we have more than enough room and food to go around."

Severus glanced around at the mass of Weasleys - and a Potter - before looking down at Hermione with almost remorseful eyes. "I apologize, but I have pressing matters to deal with," he lied. "Hermione, could I speak with you a moment before I depart?"

Hermione nodded, following him out of the house.

"I hope you are not offended by my leaving," Severus said quietly once they were alone together.

Hermione shook her head. "It's okay. I'm sure I'll be fielding about a million questions from all of them tonight anyway ... it'll be less awkward if you're not there."

Severus nodded. "Are you okay, then?"

Hermione nodded after a moment. "I wish Ron wasn't such a bloody moronic prat, but yeah, I'll be fine." She touched the necklace where it lay under her shirt, looking up at him. "Thank you ... for everything. It means a lot to me that you came."

"You are most welcome," Severus told her, looking towards the house once before leaning down and brushing her lips with his. "I shall see you when you return to Hogwarts."

Hermione sighed, nodding once before stepping back so he could apparate away. Once he was gone she waited outside for a moment before taking a deep breath and returning inside.

… 

She had been correct in assuming there would be a mass of questions hailed at her when she walked in the door. They started out with concern for her well being, and then drifted off into whether or not she was actually dating Severus Snape, the man notorious for his utter hatred of all things Gryffindor. The remaining Weasleys had the decency and maturity not to ask her if she'd completely lost her mind, especially once Samantha had been brought back down. Of course, once Samantha got within wailing distance of her mother, she began her own assault of questions: why Uncle Ron was so mad at Severus, why Severus had left without saying goodbye, what "sex" was and what could Severus want with it ... Hermione was perhaps more enraged with Ron at the end of that conversation than she’d been earlier.

By the end of the night, when Samantha was snoring peacefully in Percy's old room, Hermione was exhausted. Hermione sat with Ginny and Fleur in the backyard, grateful that the two of them hadn't felt the need to pick her brain.

"Someone please tell me something to take my mind off of this entire day," Hermione asked, leaning back against her chair with her hand over her eyes.

She heard the other two shift in their chairs, imagined they were looking at each other and telling the other to come up with something, but finally Fleur broke the silence, accentuating each word. "I am pregnant."

Hermione blinked, removing her arm from her head. Ginny snapped forward in her seat, her hand covering her own belly.

"Seriously?" the two of them asked at the same time.

Fleur nodded happily.

"Does Bill know?" Hermione asked just as Ginny wondered, "Does Mum know?"

Fleur shook her head. "Eet ez too new. I am wanting to surprise them."

Hermione smiled, happy for both Bill and Fleur. "When are you going to tell them?"

Fleur told them her plan to tell Bill on Christmas Eve, and then the two of them would tell Molly and Arthur Christmas Day, depending on how he took the news. Hermione and Ginny assured her that they had no doubts that Bill would be thrilled.

When she finally went to bed that night, Hermione thought over the day's events, all leading up to Fleur being pregnant. With Ginny being only a couple months away from her due date, and another baby on the way, Molly was going to have her hands full with grandchildren. She was happy, though.  _ Molly will be so thrilled. If only Ron hadn't been so stupid, he could be here, enjoying this moment with his family. _

She curled herself carefully around Samantha, smiling at her daughter and Crookshanks cuddled together, wishing that the day hadn’t taken such a sour turn. 

_ I can't believe Ron actually did that ... I don't know what I would have done if Severus hadn't shown up.  _ She looked thoughtfully at the locket he'd given her, and at Samantha's very-Slytherin bracelet, considering the enchantment he'd placed upon both of the items so that he would know if they were ever in trouble. Even if he couldn't express it with words, he cared and worried about them ... about both of them.

The thought made her smile, despite all the other thoughts running through her mind. The feeling of his lips against hers followed her as she drifted into sleep.

… 

By Christmas Day Hermione had managed to suitably convince Samantha that her "Uncle Ron" hadn’t meant to upset her with his outburst, and that nothing that he’d said about Severus had any truth to it. Her daughter was understandably upset with the man, professing that she didn’t want to see him if he couldn’t be nice to her or her mummy. Hermione told her that she didn't know how long it would take until he sorted himself out, but she hoped he would do it quickly and come back to apologize.

Hermione was looking forward to returning to Hogwarts, even though she knew that the other Weasleys would always love her and treat her as a member of their own, large family. Bill and Fleur had told everyone about their baby news, and the house was very hectic at the moment.

Samantha kept placing her ear on Ginny's belly and then Fleur's, trying to hear the babies inside both of them, and then crinkling her nose at her Auntie Fleur. "Are you  _ sure _ there's a baby in there, Auntie Fleur?"

Everyone laughed while Fleur nodded. "I am sure."

Then Samantha cast her suspicious eye to her mother’s stomach. “Is there a baby in  _ your _ tummy?”

Hermione laughed even harder at that, rufffling her daughter’s hair. “Definitely not, Sweetie. Not since you were in there.”

Samantha furrowed her tiny brow, continuing to regard Ginny, Fleur, and Hermione’s bellies with curiosity and confusion.

They opened presents after breakfast, and after that they went out into the yard to play the oddest game of football Hermione had ever witnessed. Harry and Hermione had suggested it the previous year, but Fred and George had found it boring, so they'd spruced it up, enchanting the ball to make it try and dodge everyone who went after it. The teams soon disbanded and everyone ran around at random, trying madly to capture the damn ball.

Hermione was taking a breather from the game when Molly appeared beside her, looking at her thoughtfully. "Hermione, could I see you inside for a second?"

She nodded, unable to prevent herself from imagining the worst path that this conversation could take. She loved Molly like a mother, but Ron was her real child. She didn’t know if she could bear disappointing this woman. 

"I know you've answered dozens of questions about this already, so I'll only ask you one, and then I'll be done with it," Molly told her.

Hermione waited nervously for her to continue.

"Are you happy?"

_ Well, that's not what I was expecting, _ Hermione thought, looking at the older woman. "Um ... yes, I suppose."

Molly held firm, tilting her head. "I'm afraid I'll need a little more than that, dear. 'I suppose' is not the answer of a happy woman."

Hermione groaned, sitting down on the couch by the window. "Molly, this has all happened so suddenly, I don't know what to think … what to feel."

Molly sat next to her, brushing a hand through Hermione's hair and then wrapping an arm around her, half-hugging her. "Just start from the beginning, dear. I know this didn’t all come out of nowhere. Tell me what happened, and maybe it'll clear things up for you."

And Hermione did. She told Molly about everything Severus had done and said to her since the moment she arrived at the school, blushing slightly when she told her about him being in her room without her permission, and when she told her about her getting drunk and him bringing her home. She told Molly how he acted around Samantha, and how Samantha felt about him. She recounted all that Severus had done to catch the men who'd attacked her, and how he'd calmed her down during her panic-attack. She told Molly about Samantha wanting Severus to be her father, and even - embarrassingly - about the Room of Requirement experience. She told her about their dinners together, all that they shared about one another, his encouragement of her to continue her own education. Finally, she told Molly about the necklace and bracelet he'd given them, how he’d found her when Ron had forced himself on her, finishing her story with a dry throat, looking down at her hands.

Molly was silent next to her.

"Molly?" Hermione asked, glancing over at her.

The older woman shook her head, a glazed look in her eyes and a half-smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I never would have thought it was possible."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Thought what was possible?"

Molly blinked, turning her head to meet Hermione's eyes. "You've gotten to him, Hermione. You've made him feel again ... you've softened his heart, so to speak."

Hermione scoffed, looking away. "Oh, please ... he wasn't always that bad, really."

Molly grinned. "You're saying that now ... would you have said that when you first went back to Hogwarts?"

Hermione thought back, shrugging. "I don't know ... maybe."

Molly shook her head. "I don't think you would have ... 'cause he's changed you, too."

Hermione replied, "I don't know what you mean."

Molly smiled, patting Hermione's hand. "Oh, dear ... don't you realize? You're falling in love with him."

… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For an intelligent woman, Hermione can be a tad obtuse sometimes. But that’s okay, she’s not the only one. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments, I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione visits her mother one last time, and Severus finally gets to see Samantha's Room of Requirement.

Hermione and Samantha returned to Hogwarts Sunday evening, in time for Samantha to play with her Christmas presents for a short while before getting ready for bed.

As Hermione lay in bed that night she tossed and turned, thinking relentlessly about what Molly had said to her. She was certainly very fond of Severus, and at the moment she couldn't imagine the next days or weeks without him being a steady part of her life ... but was she really in love with him? She didn't know how to tell, it had never happened to her before. The feelings she’d had for Ron once, or even Viktor, had never been  _ love _ , at least not romantic love. Her love for Samantha was absolute, set-in-stone, completely unquestionable. She knew what that felt like. She knew what it was  _ to love _ someone, but she didn't know a thing about being  _ in love _ .

Molly had shared hers and Arthur’s love story, she’d been witness to Harry and Ginny’s, even parts of Bill and Fleur’s … she understood the trajectory of their romances. But she was still … lost. 

She turned over onto her side again, looking at the time. She sighed into her pillow, knowing the person she needed to talk to would still be awake. She got dressed, summoned Dobby to watch Samantha, told him where she would be if anything happened, slid on her traveling cloak and moved to the fireplace, grabbing a handful of Floo Powder, first traveling to the Leaky Cauldron and then apparating to her destination.

Hermione knocked on the door hard enough to be heard by the person sipping tea in the living room - as she always did in the late evenings - but not loud enough to wake anyone who was sleeping.

After what seemed like ages, the door opened and the porch light flicked on. "Hermione?"

She set her jaw. "We need to talk."

… 

Hermione sat on the couch while her mother poured her a cup of tea with slightly shaky hands.

"I was hoping I'd see you again soon," Jean Granger told her in a hushed voice, ever-mindful of her husband snoring only a floor away.

Hermione glanced at the stairs, thinking about how much she'd like to storm up them and hex the man sleeping soundly above them. "I fought against myself for hours, wondering whether I should come here, what advice you could possibly offer that would matter … But, I know that you love him. I hate that you do, and maybe part of me hopes that  _ you  _ hate that you love him.” Hermione stated, chewing on her bottom lip. “I still don’t know why I even came here, I just need to understand more. About … love. And what it does to people. How it changes them. … If it’s worth it."

Her mother smiled sadly, sitting down beside her and slowly reaching her hand up to rub her back, stopping when Hermione stiffened in clear discomfort. She tucked her hands back into her lap, clearing her throat nervously. "You know, even when you were a toddler, as soon as you could speak, you wanted to know everything, wanted to understand how things worked and why. I was always afraid that one day you would figure everything out for yourself, and you wouldn't need me anymore."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but her mother pressed on.

"I know you don't  _ need _ me, you haven't for a long time ... but you're here now, so I'll answer all of your questions. Ask me anything."

Hermione wondered where to begin. "Did you like Dad when you first met him?"

Jean Granger thought back to the first time she'd met Paul, smiling a little. "Not really. It was a blind date; a friend of ours had set us up. He didn't hold any doors open for me, he didn't pull out my chair when we were seated for dinner, he made such a big production about paying for dinner, and then he didn't kiss me goodnight when he walked me home. I was convinced that I was never going to see him again, and that was just fine."

Hermione eyed her mother oddly, wondering how they'd ended up married if that had been her opinion of him. "So, what happened?"

Jean smiled. "He called me the next day, said he'd been extremely nervous, and wanted to know if he could take me out for a proper date. That one went much better, and even though he wasn't perfect, he made me laugh like no one ever had."

Hermione couldn't imagine her father being at all charming, but begrudgingly acknowledged that there had once been a time when she had hated him … when he hadn’t hated her.

"And you still love him now?" Hermione asked. “Really love him?”

Jean sighed, looking down at her hands. "I've asked myself that question so many times, Hermione."

The younger girl waited for her mother to continue.

"Things are never as easy as just love or hate, Hermione," Jean spoke. "There are times when I marvel at what your father has said and done, but as bad as he can be sometimes, that's how amazing he is the rest of the time. I can't help that I love him, Hermione ... I'm sorry that he's hurt you. Sorry for how he treated you, for the way he scared Samantha. I think … I hope that he regrets it as well, maybe someday he can get past it -"

Hermione shook her head, trying to wrap her head around her mother’s unfailing devotion to the man. “If that’s love, I don’t know that I want any part of it.”.

"It's that professor, isn't it?" her mother asked, trying to lighten the subject.

Hermione felt a blush rising to her cheeks, blinking a few times before meeting her mother's eyes. "It's that obvious?"

Jean smiled softly, her hand lifting as though she meant to reach out to Hermione, but then thought better of it. "To me it is."

Hermione shrugged, setting her eyes on her tea that was growing cold. "I don't know ... we've been seeing each other for a while, but nothing's really happened. Or maybe we just haven’t let anything happen. He's so good with Samantha, though. And I've never felt this way before ... but I don't know if it's  _ love _ ."

Jean nodded. "You'll know when it hits you," she told her daughter. "I thought I was sure I was in love with your father, but it didn't really hit me until my wedding day. I knew that I wanted to marry him, and that no one would make me happier, but it wasn't until I was actually walking down the aisle towards him that it hit me: I would do anything for him, and I wanted to spend the rest of my life loving him. He's my soulmate, Hermione. After everything … I can’t help loving him."

Hermione shook her head, unable to listen anymore and unsure she’d gotten any more clarity about her own emotions by coming to see her mother. "I should probably be getting back," she said, setting her cup down on the coffee table.

Jean stood up, sad that her daughter was leaving. "I know that you won't bring her back here, but is there any way I could see Samantha again?"

Hermione answered honestly, "I won't force her to, Mum. After what happened last time, I’m not bringing her into a situation that I can’t control. I just won’t. If she wants to see you, then I'll think about it. But honestly ... I don't even know if I'll be seeing you again."

Her mother blinked to hide her tears, reaching out to wrap her arms around her daughter. As she did, her sleeve shifted and the light caught her skin in just the right light. An unmistakable purple shape, half-obscured by the rest of her sleeve. 

Hermione pulled back, her eyes fixated on the bruise. “What is that?”

Jean Granger pulled her arm back to her side, fidgeting with the sleeve. “It’s nothing.” 

“It’s not ‘nothing’,” Hermione argued. “Did he do that to you?”

Jean shook her head, glancing towards the floor above them. “It’s  _ nothing _ , Hermione. It was just an accident.” 

She stared at her mother for a long time, taking in her darting, nervous eyes, the way she swallowed excessively and wouldn’t look at her. She remembered how quiet she’d been during her father’s outburst at dinner until it looked like real harm would come to him. How she continuously defended his indefensible actions. Hermione clenched her jaw tightly, glaring once again towards the stairs that would lead her to her sleeping father. “How long has he been hurting you?” 

Jean laughed, a stunted, choked attempt at dissuasion. “Don’t be silly, Hermione. He doesn’t … it’s nothing. I stumbled, that’s all.” 

Before she could stop her, Hermione grabbed her mother’s hand in her left, forcing her sweater sleeve up with her right. The rest of the bruise came into light, a clear and ugly imprint of a large hand that began just below her elbow and covered most of her slim arm. Hermione felt nauseous, but behind that was an even thicker rage. “That is not a stumble, mother.”

Her mother pulled her arm out of Hermione’s grip, covering the bruise once more and stepping back, working to compose herself. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Hermione. Your father is a lot of things, but above all he is a devoted husband. He loves me.” 

Hermione wanted to tear her hair out. “How can you keep defending him? After everything that he said and did, the way he terrified Samantha, the way he treated me, and now this? Does he hit you? How much makeup do you have to wear to cover his abuse, mother?  _ How much _ ?”

“None of this started until you came back!” Jean hissed, blinking back tears as she held her arm against her chest protectively. “He never hit me before!”

Hermione opened her mouth, ready to shout at her mother, but then closed it again. She eyed the woman in front of her pitifully. “So you’re saying this is my fault?”

Jean was silent for a long moment, and then shook her head, tears spilling freely from her eyes now. “No … of course not. It was just … a heated moment. He regretted it as soon as it happened. He’s not abusing me, Hermione. I’m not … I am not some battered housewife.  _ I’m not _ .” She grabbed a tissue off the table, hiding behind the material for a moment before using it to wipe away her tears. “Things have been really stressful lately, but they will get better. They always do. You’ll see.”

Hermione didn’t know what to say. She stared at the woman in front of her, who was clinging so desperately to the idea of the loving relationship that she’d built up for herself. She tried to look back on her parents’ marriage before the war, before she’d erased their memories, tried to pinpoint the moment something in their relationship fractured. Maybe it had always been this way, and she’d been too young or too separated from them to notice it.

She thought of Samantha, and how hard she’d worked over the last three-and-half years to make sure that her child knew that she was loved, that she had a solid and dependable support system. She thought of her friends who had become her family, and how they’d shown over the years - especially since Samantha was born - that they cared about her. That they loved her. That they would  _ choose _ her. She thought about Severus … the man who had enchanted jewelry to protect them from harm, after only being a part of hers and her daughter’s life for mere months. 

She’d come here looking for answers, for insight, for something to help reconcile the war she was fighting inside her mind, only to realize that there was no battle that needed fighting … at least not as far as her emotions were concerned. She knew what she had. She knew what she felt. She knew what she wanted, and perhaps most of all, what she was worthy of. And none of it would be found by looking into the past. 

“I’m sorry that your life has turned out this way, mother,” Hermione said softly. “For whatever part I might have played in your unhappiness, I apologize. I hope one day you get the chance to experience a world away from him, and see that you deserve better than this. I know that I deserve better, and I know that I will never settle for the kind of relationship that you have. That’s not love, mother. No matter what he tells you, or what you’ve had to convince yourself of … it’s not love. When I came here tonight, I wasn’t sure I knew what it felt like to be in love. Now I couldn’t be more sure. I wish that you could find that … I really do.”

Jean Granger said nothing for a long moment. She just stood in the living room, staring at the floor, hugging her arms close to her body. Finally, and without warning, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her daughter.

Hermione stiffened but allowed her mother to hug her, realizing for the first time just how much time had gone by. Just how far they'd drifted apart. When Molly had put her arms around her, she had found it comforting, reassuring, heartwarming … she had leaned into the older woman and talked to her for over an hour. When her own mother hugged her, she found the action stiff and awkward, and wanted to pull back immediately, but a small, residual part of her that was a daughter forced her to endure the embrace, if only for a couple seconds longer.

It was, at least in some ways, a better goodbye than they’d had before. Perhaps their final goodbye. 

… 

Hermione was happy to see Severus the next day. He had greeted her with a professional and courteous 'hello' to her when she'd sat down to eat with the other teachers and students who had remained at Hogwarts, but when he'd seen that she wore the necklace around her neck still - not hidden by her shirt - he smiled briefly, hiding the movement quickly from the other teachers. Still, Hermione had seen it, and she couldn’t help but smile back. 

His hand brushed over hers as he made a point of passing her the basket of fresh muffins, and her heart fluttered. It had been too long since they’d been alone together. Hermione mentally made a note to find Samantha a sitter for tonight. So they could talk, of course. But … maybe it was time for more. 

Glancing at the rest of the staff at the Head Table, Hermione had a feeling the rest of the teachers knew about their relationship, though none of them said anything. Minerva was constantly grinning in their direction, Filius and Pomona were caught in a private conversation, glancing conspiratorially over at them every few seconds, and Sybill was pouting over her eggs. None of them had said anything to them yet, so Hermione enjoyed her breakfast without dwelling on it too much.

Samantha was in the process of trying to convince Hagrid to take her out to see Grawp when Hermione tuned in to their conversation. "I'm sorry, Sweetie, but you can't go to see Grawp." While Hermione was sure that Hagrid would do his best to keep her daughter safe, and knew first hand that Grawp didn’t have a mean bone in his body, but her daughter was simply too small.

"But Mummy, why not?" Samantha pouted.

Hermione decided, "Because you aren't old enough to go into the Forbidden Forest. Mummy didn't go until she was twelve." She elected not to share that it was part of a detention. 

Samantha pouted, but seemed to accept this as an answer. Hermione was sure it wouldn’t last long, though, so she tried to take her mind off of it.

"We could do something else today, though," she offered. "Whatever you want, as long as it’s within the castle or the rest of the grounds that we have already explored."

Samantha thought for a moment with slightly pouted lips, until she suddenly looked up at her, smiling widely. "Can we go back to the fun room?"

Hermione tilted her head ... in a place like Hogwarts, that was a pretty vague question. "Which fun room?"

"The one with all the toys and Squidsy and the dancing music box!" Samantha explained, shaking her head at her mother like she should know better.

"Ah, the Room of Requi- oh," Hermione trailed off, glancing at Severus, who quickly caught her uneasiness. She hadn't told him about Samantha's ideal room, and wasn't sure she wanted to just yet. She didn't want to scare him off. "Um … well ..."

"Mummy, you promised!" Samantha told her.

"Well ... I suppose we could go," Hermione agreed. It wasn't as though Ron would be there to make things awkward again.

"Severus can come too!" Samantha exclaimed, bouncing in her seat.

_Of course._ Surely a hole would open up beneath her and swallow her up.

A few of the other teachers snickered, causing both Severus to glare at them, and Hermione took advantage of the distraction to try and hide the nervousness from her face. "I don't know, Sweetie," Hermione said slowly. "He might have other things to do today."

Severus glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, sensing that she was trying to hide something. His curiosity reared its head again and he replied, "I wouldn't mind paying a visit to the room of requirement. That is, if you don't mind having me there."

The challenge in his tone was clear, with just a hint of mischief. He knew something was up, and hiding it from him would only make him more determined to discover the truth. Hermione squared her jaw, refusing to back down from the challenge. "Not at all. The more the merrier."

Snape’s eyebrow arched, perplexed but excited to see where this was going. His dark eyes bore into hers, unwavering. The heat of his gaze settled in a place not entirely appropriate for the breakfast table.

They held each other's gaze until Samantha started bouncing in her seat again. "Well, hurry up and eat so we can go!"

… 

Hermione was beginning to wonder if any day at Hogwarts was going to be predictable.

When the doorway to the Room of Requirement opened, Hermione expected everything to be as it had been before, but she didn't take into account that their circumstances had changed since they had last been in the room. She really should have ...

There were still an extraordinary amount of toys for her daughter to play with, and the miniature giant squid had reappeared, but the giant music box in the middle of the room had notably changed. The man and woman were still dancing together on the round, turning floor, but there was now a third character on the box ... a little girl who was smiling happily, dancing sweetly with the tall, dark-haired man. The man was dressed in a pristine black suit, the little girl in a pretty white dress. The last time they’d been here, the dancing figures had been faceless, not but today. Today the man had a fully formed, distinctive face, and looked remarkably like Severus; the child he danced with was a near carbon-copy of Samantha; and the woman - who looked almost exactly like Hermione, but dressed in a flowing, white dress - rested one hand on the man's shoulder while the other was placed delicately on her swollen belly that looked much like Ginny's pregnant one. 

_ Oh dear, _ Hermione thought, realizing at once what her daughter's latest dreams were.

Severus halted visibly beside her, watching Samantha skip around the room as though she found it completely normal to be seeing such things, oblivious to the two adults left speechless in her wake.

Hermione waited for Severus to walk out, figuring this would finally push him past his limit, finally be too much for him to sign on for. She didn't know when she'd suddenly become so self-doubting, but she couldn't help it. She just stood there and waited for the inevitable shoe to drop.

Severus glanced at every corner of the room ... from the blended Slytherin and Gryffindor paraphernalia, to the squid splashing in the water, and finally to the large music box displayed in the middle of the room. He wasn't too surprised, if he was being honest with himself. After all, the girl had literally asked him to be her father. But the sight of Hermione pregnant ... or at least the visage of Hermione pregnant, supposedly with his child ... that threw him. It was like someone had dumped ice water into his veins.

He'd never considered the possibility of having children of his own. His own upbringing had been unpleasant enough, to say the least. His father had not been the world’s greatest role model, and he couldn’t see how he would fare any better as a parent. He seemed to do okay with Samantha,  _ so far _ , but how much time did he really spend with her? How much did she really rely on him for care, guidance …  _ love _ ? The kind of things a father is supposed to offer unconditionally ...

Severus felt something stirring within him when he looked at the image of a pregnant Hermione smiling up at him while he held Samantha in his arms. He didn't know what it was, he didn't know whether he liked it or not, and he didn't know how to react.

All he knew was that Hermione was staring at him, and he should probably be saying something right about then.

_ But what ...? _

… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So … Severus got to see the Room. Show of hands, who thinks that he’s going to cope with it well?
> 
> For those who read the original version of this story, I have done some more serious edits of Hermione’s relationship with her mother and her mother’s character arc. I’m still deciding how involved she’ll be in the rest of the story, but it won’t become a major plot point.
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments.
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus reacts to Samantha's Room of Requirement fantasy, Minerva intervenes in staff affairs, and Hermione says goodbye to the last of her baggage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will touch on Snape’s relationship with his own father. From what I can tell, there’s no mention in canon of either of his parents being alive or dead. They weren’t part of my original version of this story, but … that might change ;)

Tobias Snape had been a generally unpleasant man to everyone he had ever met, but out of all the people in his life, the ones who bore the brunt of his anger and frustration were his wife, Eileen, and his son, Severus. Rarely a day went by when he wasn't yelling at them, cursing Eileen for her inadequacies as a wife and mother, railing against his son for faults that were entirely out of his control or of Tobias’s own imagination. He often held Severus accountable for all of his own troubles, refusing to believe that it was he himself that might be the imperfect one.

Severus endured the abuse and toxicity of his father for years, but perhaps worse than that, were the years he did nothing while his mother faced as much, if not more abuse. Still, she wouldn’t leave him. 

He wasn’t proud of his alignment with Death Eaters, but they had offered him the strength and outlet that he had needed to break from his father. He also wasn’t proud to admit the prejudices he’d held against muggles because of his father … how easy it had been to believe the worst in strangers based on his experiences with one evil man. One small, drunk, out-of-work muggle who’d held far more power of him than he should have.

After Severus's graduation and pledging his allegiance to Voldemort's, he’d confronted his father, coming close to killing the man he’d despised for so long. When given the choice of leaving or dying, Tobias, ever the actual coward, had chosen to leave. His mother had gone with him, breaking perhaps what was left of Severus’s heart at the time. He’d taken ownership of the home in Spinner’s End upon their leaving, and banished his relationship with them from his mind.

For years, he had sworn that the Snape line would end with him. He'd never let himself get close to anyone after Lily; he'd ended any and every relationship the second it appeared to be getting too involved. The idea of happiness was never worth the risk of turning into his father, of inflicting his toxic trails on an innocent child of his own blood. 

As such, Severus had been alone for many years now. He’d grown comfortable in the life he was living, post war. He’d never expected to survive the war, but was ready to live out the rest of his days in quiet reflection, alone ... up until a sparse few months ago, when Hermione and Samantha Granger had burst into his life and started chipping away at his carefully crafted walls.

For someone who had spent the majority of his life looking over his shoulder and being wary of everyone, the two of them had snuck up on him far too easily. It was unfathomable.

Hermione was looking at him with concerned eyes, and he realized belatedly that time had not ceased moving during his rather unpleasant trip down memory lane. She was expecting him to say something …  _ do _ something.

Severus opened his mouth to speak, struggling for the proper words, but then he looked back at the visage of her pregnant and he couldn't bring himself to say something that would reassure her. He couldn’t bring himself to lie. "I ... I have a pressing matter to attend to in my lab. Apologies," he told her, unable to meet her eyes, and then swiftly walked out of the room. The doorway closed behind him with a resounding thud.

Hermione watched him leave, her heart sinking. Samantha noticed that he was gone a few minutes later and ran over to Hermione.

"Mummy, why are you crying?"

Hermione snapped herself out of it, looking down at her daughter. "Mummy just had something in her eye; dust, I think," she told her daughter, wiping at the stray tears that had settled on her cheeks.

"Oh, ok," Samantha replied. She poked her head behind her mother. "Where did Severus go?"

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, holding in her emotions before responding. "He had work that he needed to get finished in his office, before school starts up again. He didn’t want to interrupt your fun, so he told me to tell you he said goodbye."

Samantha frowned briefly before shrugging her shoulders. "That's okay," she said. "We’ll see him again later."

Hermione nodded sadly, trying to hold onto her daughter’s optimism.

… 

New Year’s Eve found Severus ensconced in his study, nursing a glass of firewhisky. His mind was at war between the memories of his childhood and of the last few months; as each thought ran through his mind he sank further into the abyss he'd created for himself.

_ I am not a good man _ , he reminded himself whenever he felt the urge to pull himself out of his sorrow and find Hermione to apologize for his sudden departure.  _ I’m certainly not cut out to be Samantha’s father. She deserves better ... they both do. _

With no intervention to combat his darker thoughts, he resolved to drink himself into a stupor - it wouldn't be the first time - and deal with the consequences come morning. If he tried hard enough, he knew that he could avoid them until the students came back, at which time he would have to put his strict and unwelcoming demeanor back in place. Samantha might be hurt in the short term, but be better off in the long. Hermione too, for that matter.

There was a knock at his front door and he groaned, remaining in his seat. He figured it would be Hermione wanting to talk about, but he forced himself not to go to the door. Eventually she would take the hint and leave.

His front door opened and he turned around in his seat, wondering if she actually had the gall to sort through his wards and break into his rooms.

"Severus Snape, where are you?" a voice demanded, somehow managing to be shrill and booming at the same time. He groaned even louder, tightening his grip on the bottle of firewhisky.  _ Not Hermione. Much worse. _

Minerva McGonagall stepped into the study, hands on her hips and glaring down at the man nursing the alcohol in his hands. "Just what do you think you are doing?"

Severus rolled his eyes, turning back around in his chair. "Enjoying the perks of having my own -  _ private _ \- rooms, Minerva," he stated pointedly, taking another swig. 

Minerva pulled the glass away from him before he’d managed to drink the remaining liquid, setting it roughly on the table beside the couch and ignoring his glare as he wiped the whisky off his chin. "It looks more like you're being a complete and utter buffoon, if you ask me."

"I don't believe I did ask you, Minerva," he replied coolly, wondering if she intended to take the bottle away from him as well.

She did.

"What do you want?" he asked her petulantly, willing himself to a place far, far away, where he could drink himself into oblivion in peace. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating the ringing in of yet another insufferable year with the rest of your teaching staff?”

"Clearly I have my hands full enough with this particular member of staff, Severus,” Minerva shot back. “I want you to explain what in the name of Merlin is wrong with you," she told him.

"What is it that I am meant to have done this time? This is hardly the first staff party I’ve elected not to attend."

Minerva ignored his attempts at distraction, supplying, "I don’t give a damn what parties you skip, Severus. I do, however, care about you breaking that poor girl's heart."

Severus pushed back the guilt that settled into his gut, fixing a practiced, cold look into his features. "Since when did my personal life become your business?"

"When you made it your business to invade  _ her _ personal life," Minerva retorted. "I may not be as sharp as our previous Headmaster, but I do know what goes on in my school."

Severus stood from his chair, glaring at the older woman. "My meddling got those men imprisoned for the crimes they committed against her."

Minerva held her ground, thrusting a surprisingly sturdy finger into his chest, her voice dripping with Scottish rage and indignation. "And now that you've gotten what you wanted, you're just going to cut her off? Pull away from her and the child. Merlin only knows what they see in you, but they must see  _ something _ , and you're just throwing that all away?"

Severus snatched the bottle back from her grip, turning his back to take another swig. "What I do with my life is not your business, Minerva."

"I am making it my business,  _ Severus _ . Now, I'm not telling you that you have to march over there and marry her for goodness sakes, but I will not stand by and watch you alienate yourself any longer," she professed. "You are being a fool, Severus. You have a wonderful thing going, and you're doing everything you can to spoil it."

"Why do you even care, Minerva?" Snape wondered, rounding on her. "What does any of this matter to you? Why push me towards your favorite Gryffindor lioness?"

Minerva smiled. "Aside from the fact that the two of you are completely perfect for one another, if you bothered to stop and take notice ... she makes you smile, and that, my dear boy, is no easy feat."

Severus rolled his eyes despite knowing she wasn't wrong. "You sound far too much like Albus."

"I'll take that as a compliment in this particular instance," Minerva replied coolly.

Severus shook his head, glancing down at the bottle in his hands. Maybe it was alcohol in his system, maybe he had just held in his emotions so long that they finally had to burst out ... he didn't know. But something caused him to turn to the Headmistress with open, naked emotion in his eyes. "I'll hurt her."

Minerva furrowed her brow. "You don't know that."

Severus nodded. "Yes, I do. It's in my blood, it’s all I know ... I'm not a  _ nice _ person, Minerva, I never will be. Hermione is the complete opposite. She's too nice, too caring, too … wonderful."

Minerva smiled, causing Severus to scoff and turn away again.

"I won't let her ruin her life - her  _ daughter _ \- for me," he decided.

She watched him take another drink and stepped forward to place a hand on his shoulder. He tensed, but didn't pull away. "Just talk to her, Severus. Let her decide this with you ... that's all I ask." And with that she left, putting his wards back in place and walking down the corridor.  _ Next stop, Professor Granger's rooms. Albus, you have turned me into ever the meddling fool you once were. _

… 

Samantha was asleep when Minerva stepped into Hermione's rooms, glancing around at their decorations for the New Year.

"Sorry we had to leave the party early,” Hermione commented. “When Samantha crashes, she crashes hard. What did you want to talk about?" Hermione asked her, motioning for her to sit with her at the kitchen table.

Minerva situated herself comfortably before looking evenly at Hermione. "Severus."

Hermione looked down, her throat suddenly dry. "Um ... what about him?"

Minerva smiled softly. "I think you know."

Hermione blinked a few times. "Are you going to tell me that it's against school policy for teachers to ... er, see each other?"

Minerva laughed out loud at that. "Goodness, no, you needn't worry about that, Hermione."

The younger girl sighed. "Well, that's sort of a relief. Though, I suppose that means he’ll need to come up with another excuse for not wanting to see me anymore."

Minerva placed her hand gently on Hermione’s arm. "What happened between you two?"

Hermione was embarrassed to be talking about this with her old teacher and current employer, but she still found herself compelled to answer. "He got freaked out," she said honestly. "I mean, I can't blame him. Me and Samantha … we’re a pretty big package deal, I can’t exactly fault him for not wanting to take that on."

"Don't tell me you're giving up?" Minerva asked.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't want to, but it’s not my place to make him do something that he doesn't want to do or isn’t ready for. Whatever my feelings are for him, Minerva, but if this is any indication of where this is all going, then maybe it's better to get out now before anyone gets hurt. Especially Samantha."

"She does seem quite fond of him," Minerva commented.

Hermione smiled sadly. "Yeah ... a little too fond, it seems." She paused before confessing, "She asked Severus to be her father. I didn't know until after ... but now it's out there, and … well, I suppose he's making his choice now."

Minerva's eyebrows rose at that, and in the back of her mind she marveled at the fact that the only one of them who had the guts to go after what they wanted was the three-year old. "Have you talked to him about it?"

Hermione answered, "A little. I'd like to talk more about it with him, but I’m not sure he'll give me the chance.” He’d been avoiding her since their visit to the Room of Requirement. “I mean, I don't expect him to just throw himself into a relationship with me and Samantha, or even just me, but I was hoping he'd a least give us a chance." Hermione shook her head. "It was stupid, I guess."

Minerva shook her own head, rubbing Hermione's arm. "Hermione, there is nothing stupid about wanting to have a relationship with someone who is important to you."

Hermione wished it were that simple. She was struck with a curious thought and glanced at the woman who'd brought her back to Hogwarts. "Why do you care so much about this, Minerva?"

Minerva smiled, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Can’t I just want my staff to be happy?"

Hermione didn't believe her for a second, but it was late and she was tired, so she accepted the answer, chatting with the older woman for a few more minutes before they both decided to call it a night.

Hermione lay in her bed that night, thinking over the last few months. So much had happened, so much had changed. So much had been resolved. She glanced over at her closet, thinking for the first time in a while about the box of unpleasant memories hidden now on the highest shelf, out of her daughter’s reach and away from prying eyes. She hadn't looked inside it since she'd shown it to Severus. … That damn box. It was what had started this whole thing.

If their relationship was going to move forward - if there was a relationship left to move forward - she didn’t want it to have anything to do with the demons from her past.

… 

Early the next morning, before Samantha or anyone else had woken up, Hermione walked across the school grounds, the cold morning air settling deep into her bones. She had the box tucked under her arm while she walked, constantly looking over her shoulder to make sure that no one was following her.

Once she found a place that was far enough away from the school as well as Hagrid's cabin she set the box down, sinking to her knees and nudging open the lid. She knew the items inside by heart, but as she looked at them now they seemed completely foreign to her. As though they had belonged to another person.

As she took each item out of the box, one by one, she realized that after all this time, they didn’t really belong to her anymore ... she was no longer the same person that she had been then, or even the person she'd been when she had first come back to Hogwarts.

She finally felt ready to start fresh, put it all behind her, and embrace the future, whatever it might hold.  _ Happy New Year, Hermione Granger.  _

Hermione ripped the box apart, setting it atop the pile of clothing, photographs, and files. She pulled out her wand and a lighter. The two items weighed heavily in her hands, each calling out to her in different ways.

Was she a witch, or a muggle? Which life did she want? Magic had hurt her, it had been used against her in the worst way ... had enough time passed for her to embrace the magical life again?

Hermione closed her eyes, grasping the two items in each of her hands. The cool, January breeze tossed her hair about, sending another chill throughout her body. She opened her eyes, gazing around at the place she currently called home. Not all of her memories growing up had been bad, but they hadn't compared to the memories she'd had while at Hogwarts. Even when their lives had been in actual mortal danger, Hermione's adventures with Harry and Ron had made her feel alive, had given her a purpose aside from "books and cleverness".

After Hogwarts, after the war, after her attack … Hermione had retreated into her muggle heritage, using it as a crutch for so long, had shut out so much magic from her life for three years. Had hidden away from that world, denied herself the opportunities that the wizarding world had to offer. Hidden herself away from the  _ people _ in that world.

The image of Samantha levitating that stick back to the giant squid filled her mind, followed by the memory of Samantha assaulting Paul Granger with tea and dinner servings. She didn't want to rob her daughter of any opportunities she might have to further her skill and come into her powers. She certainly didn’t want her daughter growing up feeling like she needed to hold herself back from everything the world - muggle or wizarding - had to offer.

Exhaling long and slowly, Hermione slid the lighter into her back pocket, holding up her wand and lighting the box and all of its contents on fire, watching them burn. The surrounding snow assured her that the fire would not spread. Hermione allowed one tear, and one tear only to spill from her eyes as she let go of all the pain and sorrow that had accompanied the memories in that box, and when the flames finally died out and there was nothing left, she cleared the area with a flick of her wand, turned around and made her way back into the school to get herself ready for what the new year had to bring.

If she had glanced upwards while she was walking, she might have seen Severus Snape watching her from the Astronomy Tower, his own face wet with tears he couldn’t bear to share with her.

… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hides under her desk*: please don’t hate me. 
> 
> I promise this story will have a happy ending, and it will be worth the pain. 
> 
> If you’re feeling at all forgiving, please let me know what you think in the comments below (okay, even if you aren’t feeling forgiving, let me know your thoughts anyway).
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione begins her Potions Apprenticeship, and a mishap occurs while brewing Amortentia, leading to some interesting realizations.

Severus skulked about in his lab, working on potions for Madam Pomfrey, as well as the purchase order he had for St Mungo's. The new term was about to begin, and he'd been falling behind on his extra duties of late. Given his renewed efforts to separate himself from … romantic entanglements, it seemed now was as good a time as any to catch up. The solace and peacefulness of his potions lab were a welcome distraction, knowing it was perhaps the one place other than his private rooms where he could escape Hermione Granger, and all of his whirling thoughts about her.

Potions-making required concentration and consistency, and as such there was no room for his mind to wander; for him to get lost in his thoughts could prove catastrophic, depending on the potion.

He had finished the numbing salves, Skelo-Gro, and a new batch of Dreamless Sleep, and was just moving on to a burn-relief salve when there was a knock on his door. Severus sighed, setting down the knife he was using and moving to the door. "What?" he asked brusquely, before taking note of the wild-haired woman standing outside his door. "Oh," he spoke quietly. "Um, what is it?"

Hermione cleared her throat, straightened her back, and met his eyes with as little hesitation and reproach as she could. "I'm here to begin my apprenticeship."

Of all the things he had expected her to say to him, that might have been furthest down on the list. Severus stared at her for a long moment. "Pardon?"

Hermione pulled a piece of parchment from her robes. "My Potions apprenticeship begins today - with you."

Severus blinked, momentarily flustered. "You don't … you are not engaged in an apprenticeship with me."

Hermione pressed the parchment closer to him. "I am now."

Severus took it from her hand, looking the agreement over with scrutinizing, suspicious eyes. "I did not sign this."

"Minerva said you'd spoken to her about it before the holidays, and that you had given your approval then," Hermione reminded him. "She said that your verbal 'okay' was all the consent she needed. I suppose that means you're stuck with me."

Severus looked from her to the parchment that so clearly sealed their fates together for the foreseeable future, forcing himself to meet her eyes once more. "Why are you doing this?" he wanted to know.

Hermione gave him the academic reason, skipping right over the other, more personal one. "Because you were right when you said that I could do so much more than teach Muggle Studies. While I certainly don't plan on abandoning that position or my students, I've decided to make a proactive move, and further my education."

Severus eyed her suspiciously. "And I am to believe that is your only reasoning?"

Hermione shrugged, moving past him into the room. "You may believe whatever you choose to, Severus.  _ I  _ happen to believe your time could be better spent providing me with an orientation, rather than holding the door open like a life-sized doorstop." It’s possible she was fostering some resentment towards him after the many days he’d been avoiding her. He hadn’t attended a single meal in the Great Hall since that day they visited the Room of Requirement. She missed him, but not enough that she wouldn’t give him a taste of her disappointment.

Severus flared his nostrils, closing the door harder than necessary and turning around. Steeling his nerves and forcing his face to remain inexpressive, he spoke, "Very well. Do try to keep up."

...

By the end of January, Severus had still only let Hermione observe the making of his potions, and cut/chop/slice his ingredients as he needed, the bulk of her apprenticeship focusing on theory and study. He informed her that this was normal pacing for his apprenticeships, and made it perfectly clear that he was attempting to keep things between them as professional as possible.

Hermione wasn't giving up on some kind of future between them, despite his preference to keep their relationship strictly professional. Whatever her feelings were for Severus, however upset she was at him for walking away when things got complicated ... She would be patient. If it took days, weeks, months, or more, she would convince him that their relationship was worth it. She would convince him to give her a chance - to give  _ them _ a chance.

Severus had begun returning to the Great Hall for meals at the beginning of February, though he always grew visibly uncomfortable when Samantha started asking him questions, or his eyes caught the glint of the bracelet on her wrist. He did his best to hide the impact the little girl’s hurt and confused expressions had on him whenever he made an excuse as to why he couldn’t attend dinner with her and her mother, but Hermione could tell it was taking its toll. On both of them.

Hermione kept the necklace he’d given her hidden under her robes, not quite ready to take it off or have it be a daily reminder to him of what he was letting slip through his fingers. There had been a few times when she'd caught him staring at her, trying to see if she still wore it, but he never said anything. 

Finally, in mid-February, Severus allowed her to assist him more actively in potion-making, though it was still nearer to the end of the month before he allowed her to make potions by herself - under his watchful eye, of course. She performed splendidly, never missed a step, never made an error, never got mixed up and caused a spill, or a cauldron to blow up - as apparently most of his former apprentices had done. Hermione figured that was why he was so cautious with the slow pace of the schedule.

Things were going moving along perfectly well - professionally, at least. Until the evening of March nineteenth, that was.

Hermione could barely concentrate, despite the fact that she made the potion once before in Slughorn's class years ago. Amortentia. Hermione could tell that Severus hadn't wanted to make the potion with her, or even watch her make it. She certainly had her own misgivings about the potion. But, it was on the list of potions she was required to make accurately in order for her to succeed in the Potions Apprenticeship program, making both of their feelings on the matter quite moot.

Hermione sliced and sifted, adding the necessary ingredients in the appropriate stages, feeling his eyes boring into her from where he was standing. She denied herself the desire to look at him. All of her energy needed to go into completing the potion, not getting lost in what she might smell when the potion was completed. … What  _ he _ might smell.

Her hands trembled slightly, and as she forced them to be still she gripped what she thought were the proper ingredients, bringing them above the simmering cauldron.  _ Just finish the potion and you can get out of here _ .

"Stop!" Severus hissed, lunging at her, but it was too late.

Hermione turned to look at Snape after she’d dropped the ingredients into the cauldron. She had a split-second view of black robes filling her vision, and then she was tackled to the ground. Hermione's immediate response was fear, as she hadn't been trapped underneath a man since  _ that night _ . Her brain recovered faster than her racing heart, realizing that it was Severus Snape on top of her, he would never hurt her, and he must surely have a good reason for jumping on her like that.

As it turned out, he did.

Less than a second later came the clear and unmistakable sounds of the potion boiling over dramatically, and then the pearly mess exploded across the room, covering as many surfaces as it could reach, including - of course - the two inhabitants on the floor. The hot liquid splattered over them. While he took the brunt of it, some fell onto Hermione's hands - which were clenched tightly around his shoulder blades - and splashed against her forehead. It was hot enough to bring tears to her eyes, but logically she knew a simple burn salve would take care of that. She couldn’t help wondering about his back, though.

"Are you alright?" he muttered against the hollow of her neck.

Hermione tried to ignore the feeling of his weight on top of her body, finding it difficult - mostly because she was more comfortable with his weight against her than she cared to admit. That, and the burning sensation making itself known on her hands and forehead. "I think so. What about you? Your back ..."

Severus twitched against her when her fingers moved carefully from his shoulder blades to his spine. "I'll be fine," he told her, still not moving.

The feeling of his hot breath against her neck was driving her mad. It was then that she realized what potion  _ exactly _ had spilled on them.  _ Oh boy, _ Hermione thought.  _ This is going to be awkward when the effects wear off. _ She waited with bated breath, afraid to move the wrong way … or the  _ right _ way. The potion would take effect any moment now … he might never forgive her for what it would inevitably make them do to one another.

The seconds stretched on in painful silence, the only sounds filling the room were their own hesitant breaths, the exaggerated beating of their hearts in their ears, and the telltale dripping of the exploded potion from the surrounding furniture. A long minute later, Severus eased himself off her body, pulling his body upright with a noticeable grimace. He was clearly in pain. "You may gather your things and return to your rooms, Professor Granger," he told her. "I will clean up this mess."

Hermione blinked in confusion. He wasn’t ravaging her. ...Not that she was complaining … well … not really. Hermione slowly lifted herself from the ground, glancing around the room. Her knees were a bit wobbly, but she was otherwise in fll control of her faculties. "No, it’s fine. This was my fault, I should be the one to clean it up."

Severus shook his head, his body movements slow and choppy as he put distance between them. "I do not require your assistance." He pulled out his wand, beginning a string of incantations to remove the remnants of the love potion from his lab. He was fully aware of the effects that the potion should be having on him. The potion hadn't been finished, but all that had been left to add were the stabilizing and cooling agents. Hermione had inadvertently added the final ingredient too soon (and too much of it for that matter), which had caused the potion not only to overheat rather than cool, but it should have strengthened it ten-fold. By all rights, they should be throwing caution to the wind and shagging each other senseless, not debating who should clean up the mess.

Hermione retrieved her items, also confused as to why the potion didn't seem to be affecting them as it should. Other than the final steps, she knew she had brewed an effective love potion. It wouldn’t have the shelf life that most potion orders require, but if anything her mistake should have made the potion much stronger than a normal dose. It had erupted all over them, and yet ... Sure, she had the desire to pull the stubborn man towards her and kiss him into oblivion ... but she was able to resist the urge. Something was definitely off.

"As you can see, I do not need you here,  _ Professor _ Granger," Severus spoke again, wincing and tightening his back. "Now, I'll ask you again to please leave my lab."

Hermione could tell he was in pain. She had already cleared the potion off of her hands and head, getting as much out of her hair as she could. Meanwhile, he hadn't been able to take care of his back.

“This is ridiculous,” Hermione huffed. She raised her wand, clearing the potion off of his back and carefully drying his robes.

"What are you doing?" he asked her, feeling a little bit of relief now that the hot potion wasn't stinging into his skin. But it was still burnt.

"Helping, you stubborn idiot" Hermione answered swiftly, moving to his storage cupboard to retrieve a burn ointment. When she came back, he was still in the same place he'd been before. "You'll need to remove your robes."

It might have been an innocent request if it were anyone else, but with her ... "I can get Madam Pomfrey to do that."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "So now I'm not even allowed to tend to your wounds? Come on, Severus. I promise not to pounce on you," she declared stiffly. "Now, will you please remove your robes so I may assist with your obviously injured back? Certainly you would do the same for me?"

Severus gritted his teeth, warring with himself over the potential impropriety versus the searing pain in his back. "Fine," he ground out eventually, summoning a stool and working loose the fastenings on his robes. He was able to shrug the outer material off with relative ease, but as he got down to the tighter layers, they became more difficult to remove. Though his back screamed in protest, he couldn’t bring himself to ask her for further help.

Hermione watched him struggle with the vest and shirts until she couldn't stand it any longer. “Enough,” she sighed heavily, stepping in front of him and glaring at him pointedly. She watched him purse his lips, but he made no move to stop her. Hermione carefully tucked her thumbs under the shoulders of his vest, pushing it back and then sliding it carefully down his arms.

Severus kept his back as straight as possible, forcing himself to look away from her.

Next, Hermione set to work on his shirt. He'd managed to undo all of the buttons, but he hadn't gotten to the cufflinks. Hermione grabbed one hand, removing the metal from its slot and flipping open the sleeve. She set his hand down, slowly moving over to un-cuff the other one. His body was still, as though he was holding his breath. She hadn't noticed when her own breathing had changed, but it was now coming out in shallow, slow, heated inhales and exhales.

Once finished with his sleeves, Hermione released a bigger breath, making the mistake of looking up at him.

Severus had been trying very hard not to look at her, but every so often his eyes would stray back towards her, remaining on her form for only a half-second. But on one such glance, she happened to meet his eyes ... and then he was trapped.

Neither one of them could look away.

Hermione felt her heart flutter and then pound furiously in response. She made herself focus, bringing her hands up to remove his first shirt as she had his vest. The dark material fell off of his shoulders, clumping at his elbows. Severus remained perfectly still, so Hermione pulled down on his cuffs to remove the shirt fully. Once that was out of the way, set on the stool with the vest, Hermione glanced at his remaining shirt. It was similar to a muggle t-shirt, and since it had no buttons, Hermione knew she couldn't remove it without causing him more pain.

Unless she used magic.

Hermione pulled her wand out once more, pointing it at his shirt. He swallowed audibly, his eyes wary, and Hermione willed herself to be calm and accurate, and not remove ALL of his clothing with a wave of her wand.  _ "Divesto," _ she whispered, and a second later his shirt was gone.

She was pleased to note that she'd only removed what she'd intended, but the rest of her was frozen at the sight of his bare chest. She'd seen his arms before, but never anything like this. Hermione had to bite back a gasp, taking in the mixture of muscle and scars, of which there were plenty. His skin was as pale as she expected, and he held a certain wiry strength to him, most evident in his arms and upper body. Hermione had to force the blush from creeping up to her cheeks as she took in the sight of his battle worn body.

Severus cleared his throat, breaking Hermione out of her trance.

"Um, would you rather sit, or stand?" she asked him in a wavering voice.

"Whichever would be easier for you," he replied shortly, though his voice was strained.

Hermione blinked, looking around the room. She remembered the stool he'd summoned, and quickly moved the clothes that she'd set on it. "Sitting would perhaps be easier."

He nodded almost imperceptibly, stepping towards the furniture and turning to sit so that his back was facing her.

Hermione shook her head about, attempting to clear her thoughts.  _ Just get on with it, Hermione _ . She eased the thick potion out of its container, pouring a generous amount onto her hand. She then brought it up to the burnt, red skin of his back, carefully applying it to cover his entire back. The heat of his skin settled into her hands, craving his warmth in the chilling coolness of the dungeons. 

Once she was satisfied that she had fully treated the burns on his back, she spread the potion onto his shoulders, and then, with nervous fingers, lifted his hair off of his neck so she could access the burnt skin there.

"I'm sorry," she spoke once she was finished, releasing the soft locks of hair and returning her hands to her sides.

Severus chose to believe she was referring to the potion. "A margin of error is expected with any Apprenticeship," he informed her. "You will simply have to redo it next week."

Hermione didn't relish the idea of repeating the experience, but knew it was necessary.

Severus groped for his clothing, wishing to regain some sense of composure. He needed to get out of this situation as soon as possible so he could think. Something must have gone wrong with the potion, something he hadn't noticed. He slid his robes on over his otherwise naked chest and secured the fastenings, shrinking his other garments and slipping them into his pocket. When he finally turned to look at her, he noticed that her forehead was red - as he was sure his back was - and instinctively reached for the burn-relief potion. His fingers were millimeters from hers when he stopped, his hand paused mid-air.

Hermione met his eyes, and after a second, he pulled his hand back.

"You should put some on your forehead," he told her. "Be sure to work it into your scalp."

Hermione nodded.

"You may do that in your rooms," he told her. "Have a house elf return it to me tomorrow."

Hermione wanted to ask him why the Amortentia hadn't affected them, but she wasn’t sure he would give her an answer if he even knew. He was clearly uncomfortable, and probably more vulnerable that he’d intended to be at the start of this session. Reining in her curiosity, she gathered her supplies, glanced at him over her shoulder once more, and then left the lab, returning to her rooms to tend to her own burns.

...

Hermione smiled down at the baby in her arms, making happy, gurgling noises in response to his own.

"Come on, dish!" Ginny exclaimed, finally having convinced Samantha to take a short nap so she and Hermione could gossip about a certain brooding bat of the dungeons. "I want all the sordid details!"

Hermione sighed, content to coo at the month-old baby boy in her arms. "There's nothing to tell, really," Hermione offered.

Ginny planted her hands on her hips. "Woman, I wasn't born yesterday! I can see you're holding out on me."

Little baby James pawed at the locket hanging down from Hermione's neck, attempting to grasp the shiny metal.

"Well ... have you ever heard of someone not being affected by a love potion?" she asked her friend.

Ginny gaped at her. "Don't tell me you tried to slip one into his drink?"

Hermione would have smacked her if her hands hadn't been occupied. "Of course not, Ginny! Don’t be preposterous. One of the potions I have to successfully brew as part of my apprenticeship is Amortentia. I screwed up on the last ingredients - I think - and the potion exploded all over us."

Ginny’s eyes grew even wider as she waited expectantly for all the dirty happenings, commenting with a snort that she might need to cover baby James’s ears for this, but Hermione just shook her head.

"Nothing happened, though. I mean, we didn't act any differently," she informed her. "I've been trying to figure out why, but from what I can tell, no one's ever experienced  _ no _ effect from a love potion. I've been researching, but I've found absolutely nothing."

James started fussing, so Hermione reluctantly passed him back to his mother, who quickly pacified him at her breast.

"Well, how long has it been since it happened?" Ginny wondered.

"A few days."

"And have you spoken to him about it?" the redhead wondered next.

Hermione shook her head. "He barely talks to me as it is. He hasn't even come to the Great Hall for meals since it happened."

Ginny took in the information. "Well, if he won't tell you, then you should go to someone who will. Someone who's been around for a while, and might know about these things."

Hermione chewed her lip, thinking. The first person that popped into her mind was Dumbledore. He always knew everything. "You think I should visit Dumbledore's portrait?"

Ginny chuckled. "No, I was actually thinking of someone a bit more 3-dimensional than that."

Hermione waited.

"Professor McGonagall, of course," Ginny stated in exasperation. "She is the Headmistress. Even if she doesn't know, Snape would  _ have _ to tell her if she asked. So either way, you'll get to find out what's what."

Hermione felt awkward about bringing something like this to the Headmistress, but she had offered advice before. "You know, that just might work, Ginny. Thanks."

Her friend smiled triumphantly, the two smiling down at the nursing baby who hadn’t a care for the shenanigans of the adults around him. Food and sleep, that’s what it was all about. The rest was boring adult stuff.

… 

Hermione rapped on the door to the Headmistress's office, waiting patiently.

"Come in," Minerva's voice resounded from inside, and Hermione pushed the door open. "Ah, Hermione!" Minerva greeted. "Have a seat."

Hermione did as she was requested, sitting in a chair by her desk.

"What can I do for you?" the older woman asked.

"Well, I had a question. I've been trying to find some information for a few days now, but I don't seem to be making any headway," Hermione began.

Minerva looked her over. "Does this have anything to do with why Severus has been avoiding the Great Hall again?"

Hermione nodded.

Minerva sat back in her chair, getting comfortable. "I guess our apprenticeship hasn't been working out as we'd hoped?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not exactly."

"Alright, then," Minerva spoke. "Let's have it. What is it that you wish to know?"

Hermione sighed, fiddling with her fingers, and wondering where to begin. "Well, we were working on Amtorentia, and -"

"Oh my," Minerva interrupted, making a show of being flustered. "My girl, are you sure I want to hear about this?"

Hermione chuckled slightly, allowing herself to relax a little. "Nothing like that," Hermione assured her. "That's actually what I was wondering about. See, there was an accident - completely my fault - and as a result, both Severus and I were exposed to the potion. But nothing happened. We didn't do anything, we weren't compelled to ... act upon anything," Hermione recounted, feeling a blush rising in her cheeks. "I'm just not understanding how that would happen. I thought that love potions were supposed to draw people together. I've never heard of one that didn't affect people at all. Have you?"

Minerva tapped her fingers on the desk, considering all the facts. "Well ... I can think of perhaps one reason," the Headmistress admitted. “Though I am surprised that you haven’t worked it out for yourself, Hermione.”

Hermione sat forward in her seat, mildly ruffled but no less eager for her perspective. "A reason why ...?"

"Well, this is certainly a touch awkward, Hermione," Minerva stated. "I mean, I don't pretend to know the ins and outs of your relations with Severus, but, if the potion you were brewing was a  _ love _ potion, and the two people exposed to it exhibited no obvious changes in their behavior, then  _ logically _ , one might assume ..."

Hermione felt as though she were hit with a proverbial ton of bricks. “You mean, we … he …?”

Minerva nodded, unable to resist smirking just a little. "Indeed, my dear. Granted, I’m no Potions Mistress, but it stands to reason that when a  _ love _ potion doesn't affect two people, it's because those two people are already  _ in love _ . _ … _ Both of them."

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snape, Snape, Snape … outed by your own subject matter. 
> 
> We’re getting so close to the end of this story. I can’t promise there won’t be any tears to come, especially in the next chapter, but it will be worth it. *inserts halo emoji* I promise.
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments.
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus leaves the castle in search of old demons, Hermione reaches her breaking point, and Samantha needs her 'daddy'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is going to touch briefly on blood magic, as it relates to tracking spells/potions. The idea for it actually relates more closely to Charmed initially than Harry Potter, but it’s going to have a Snape/Potions Master flair to it. This is something I’ve added for this version of the story, and was not included when I originally wrote this, which will impact the (still unfinished) sequel slightly
> 
> Also, the pain train for these two will *soon* be ending. I promise. They’re so close … 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

Severus paced back and forth in his rooms, his mind racing and spinning, trying to come with a believable excuse for the potion not eliciting the expected reaction … one that Hermione would accept, that was.  _ You've mustn't allow yourself to be caught up in romanticism, you fool. No need to submit to feelings of … love. You know all too well what love leads to. _

Severus ran a hand through his hair, resisting the urge to rip the silky tendrils out of his scalp. When had things gotten so complicated?

_ The second that little girl came trotting out of Hagrid's hut, and called her "Mummy", that's when. _

He nearly growled in frustration, thinking back to the weeks before the school year had begun. Would all this be happening if he'd just kept his nose out of her business? If he'd never walked back with them to their rooms, or gone inside to drink juice with Samantha? If he hadn't gotten so damn nosy about finding out what was in that box? If he hadn't used Legilimency to find out who had raped her? If he hadn't tried to bring her parents back into her life, or gone out of his way to be nice to Samantha, or done any of the endless list of things that he'd done since she came back into his life?

He could spend hours focusing on the what-ifs that plagued him, and not be of any surer mind.

Determined to stave off more relentless inner inquiries, he moved into his study and eyed the bottle of firewhisky. He needed to clear his mind, distract himself from the destructive train of thought he was currently headed on. Reaching out, his fingers traced the edge of the bottle, ready to unstopper it, only to hesitate before he could. His eyes drifted from the liquor table in his study to the work desk, glancing at the potion vial that sat secure on the right side of the desk. 

It was a new potion, one he’d created and begun brewing shortly after Samantha asked him to be his father. Struck by the closure Hermione had tried to find with her own parents, he’d set out for a way to find his own, but he had nowhere to start. After abandoning Spinner’s End, there was no trace of them in the magical community whatsoever. He’d found a few articles showing his father’s arrests for drunken disorderly and destruction of property, but that trail had gone cold well over a decade previous. 

While there were a few magical ways to track a person - the Trace, taboo phrases - none of them were of any use to his situation. And so, while endeavouring to keep himself distracted from the pull of Hermione and Samantha Granger, he had set about creating a new way of tracking, utilizing his skills as a Potions Master and an accomplished spellcaster. He hadn’t yet decided whether he would make his invention public knowledge … in the wrong hands, it could do a great deal of harm. 

The potion and spell had been ready for over a week, just waiting for him to test them out. He’d been delaying, of course, uncertain whether he truly wanted to go down that path. Severus spared one last longing look at the bottle of firewhisky before making up his mind. He grabbed the potion along with his traveling cloak, tossing a handful of Floo Powder into the fireplace and announcing, “ _ Spinner’s End, Snape residence. _ ”

…

While Severus was no stranger to his home in Spinner’s End, the atmosphere held a much different feel to it this evening than it had in years past. His mother and father hadn’t stepped foot in the house in two decades, the interior bearing as little resemblance to his childhood home as he’d been able to manage over the years. 

Pushing aside the more unpleasant thoughts of his childhood, Severus forced himself to focus on the task at hand. Finding them.

He cleared the dining room table with a flick of his wand, summoning a world map and several others, rolling up his sleeves. He started with the world map, for obvious reasons. Clearing his mind, he unstoppered the vial, carefully poured a few drops of the deep-purple mixture onto the map, then bringing a short penknife to his palm. The incision was small, but effective, allowing a few drops of blood to mix with the potion. As he briefly staunched the bleeding with the handkerchief in his grip, he lifted his wand hand and uttered the incantation over the map. 

The effect was immediate. The potion swirled together with his blood, the incantation causing it to alight with an eerie, byzantium glow. The liquid moved slowly over the map, remaining on the eastern hemisphere, moving away from England, settling eventually over France. 

Severus arched a brow, removing the world map and summing a map of France, repeating the process, first narrowing the location down to the northwest, then Brittany, and finally the small town of Dinan. He couldn’t trace them any further from Spinner’s End. Without giving enough time to dissuade himself of the notion, Severus disposed of the maps and mess, secured his travelling cloak around him once more, and began the process of apparating to France. 

...

Hermione wandered the halls on her patrol that night, still thinking about what Minerva had told her.  _ Already in love? _ She couldn't fathom it. Her own feelings weren’t altogether a surprise to her, but Severus … Potions Master, surly professor, and notorious bat that haunted the dungeons - at least, that’s what he would like everyone to believe. For him to be in love with her as well?

It was only a theory, and not the theory of a Potions Master or Mistress ... but it was a sound theory. It was logical.

Even so, it was difficult to wrap her mind around it. Severus Snape, in love … what an idea. Hermione shook her head, turning along the corridor to make a round of the library. It had always brought her so much comfort and solitude as a student, she hoped it would do the same now.

She thought of her daughter, sleeping soundly in her room, with Dobby watching over her with a proud, puffed out chest. As she moved through the still stacks of the lonely library, she thought of everything that had happened in the last eight months, all leading up to her current situation.

Hermione sighed, bringing her hand up to feel the locket that was tucked under her robes. She hadn't been able to bring herself to take it off, even though her relationship with Severus over the past few months had been tense at best.

Samantha was feeling the loss of his presence as well, missing him at meals and not understanding why he wasn’t as friendly as he used to be. She would break into random crying fits at the most unexpected moments, and it was a nightmare lately to try and get her to eat and go to sleep on time. Dobby would most definitely have his hands full tonight.

Hermione trailed her fingers along the spines of each book she passed as she made her way through the stacks, breathing in the glorious smells of paper, ink, and a heavy scent of alcohol.

Hermione frowned, sniffing again at the powerful aroma that was filling the room. Students, drinking in the library? They wouldn’t dare … Glancing around, Hermione found it wasn’t a student, but someone even more unexpected. "What are you doing here?"

Severus glanced around at the sound of her voice, his face falling when he saw that it was her. "Merlin, can I not get one night's respite from your presence?" His eyes rolled up to the heavens, his voice deep and slurred.

Hermione took a step closer, narrowing her eyes. "You're drunk."

"Your powers of observation are extraordinary," he replied dryly, leaning back against the stacks.

Hermione looked all around them, hopeful that there weren't actually any students in the library after hours. Settling her eyes back on the inebriated Potions Master, she took note of his traveling cloak and the bandage on his hand as he pushed his hair out of his eyes. Glancing at his other hand, she noted his torn, bloodied knuckles.

“Merlin, Severus, have you been in a bar fight?” she wondered, reaching for his hand. 

He pulled back out of her reach. “‘ _ Fight _ ’ is hardly the word I would use to describe tonight’s encounter, however if you are looking to wet your whistle in a ‘ _ bar _ ’, then I give my utmost compliments to  _ Le saut de la Puce _ ,” Severus commented, tipping his head briefly against the shelves, and wondering just much Irma would be incensed if he were to rearrange the titles in the Restricted Section. 

Hermione stared back at him in confusion. “You were in … France tonight? Why?”

"So, you'll be forcing one of your emotional speeches on me, then?" Severus inquired, pushing himself off the bookshelf he was resting against and stepping towards her. "Tell me how good a man I am, and how my past doesn't matter? I’m not certain I can stand to listen to any more speeches tonight ..."

Hermione turned her head back to look at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm not exactly in the speech-giving mood. Whatever’s going on with you, Severus … you’re clearly not in the mood to listen anyway."

"That's  _ Professor Snape _ ," he replied, glaring down at her through half-lidded eyes.

"What, arsehole was taken?" Hermione bit back, unable to coddle him any further.

Severus blinked, staring back at her, his mouth uncharacteristically slackened in shock.

Hermione stepped towards him, managing not to make a face at the aroma of alcohol wafting off of him, but only just barely. "I am nearing the end of my patience with your emotional constipation," she told him, feeling her heart swell with a bravery that she hadn't known was within her. "We both know exactly how you feel about me - and how I feel about you," she added, nearly losing her nerve. "I'm so sorry that it took an exploding potion to open our eyes, but I am not going to apologize for how I feel about you, you bloody … arse!"

Severus leaned towards her, placing an unsteady hand on the bookshelf nearest to her head. "You shouldn't speak to me like that," he warned her, his face inches from hers.

Hermione flared her nostrils in response, crossing her arms and holding her ground. "I'm not afraid of you,  _ Severus _ ," she informed him, jutting her chin out defiantly. Wherever he’d gone tonight, whatever he’d done, it had clearly rattled him enough that he was wandering the school in this drunken state. Waiting for him to be ready to talk to her was getting her nowhere, it was time for action.

Severus's jaw clenched as he stared down at her, breathing the musky scent of stale alcohol through his nose. "Why the bloody hell not? What do I need to do to convince you that I am not someone you want to be involved with? I am not someone worth  _ saving _ ."

Hermione could see where this was going, refusing to give him and his self-doubt the leverage he was looking for. She brought her hands up between them, planting them firmly on his chest, and then shoving him back with all her might. She watched him stumble backwards, his back falling into the shelf behind him. "I know exactly what you're capable of,  _ Severus _ , but you seem to have underestimated me."

His eyes flashed angrily, dangerously at her, and he grasped at the shelf to pull himself back towards her. The ghost of his father’s rage settled within him, his lips pressing into a snarl, raising himself to his full height.

He suddenly felt his watch heating up against his wrist, pulling his focus away. He looked down at it, taking a moment to realize what it meant. Finally he glanced up at Hermione from where he stood against the bookshelf. "You're still wearing it."

It took a second for Hermione to realize that he meant her locket, and another to realize that despite her bravado, he had actually begun to frighten her. "It was a gift," she replied in explanation, fighting the urge to hold it against her chest. A part of her wondered if he would demand to have it back.

"It was a mistake," he replied, looking down at his feet. “... Everything has been a mistake.” He looked away, seeming to be caught in memories that had nothing to do with her. “I never should have …” 

_ Where happened to him tonight?  _ Hermione shook her head at his spoken words, fighting the tears that threatened to stir up in her eyes. "No, it wasn't a mistake. The gift ... or us. It was  _ you,  _ Severus. The best of you."

"You don't know me that well," he told her.

"I know you well enough," Hermione stated, stepping towards him this time, her anger and fear at his previous rage dissipating. "I know you better than most people might, and that's what's scaring you. You're afraid of getting close to me, afraid of getting hurt, afraid of  _ hurting us _ ... well, guess what, Severus? You  _ have _ hurt us. You might not see what this has done to Samantha, but I do. She loves you with her whole heart, and you're breaking it."

"All the more reason why I should stay away," he pushed back, standing up straight. “There is no part of me that is built to be a father, least of all to her.”

Hermione shook her head, trying to figure out some other way to get through to him. Her words weren't getting through to him, her gestures weren't getting through to him, spending the last three months in close quarters with him every other day certainly wasn't getting through to him. Sighing, Hermione gritted her teeth, flared her nostrils, and inhaled sharply. A second later, her hand left her side and struck him evenly across his face.

Severus's eyes widened in response, staring down at her with a heated, surprised expression on his usually guarded face. His pale cheek already began reddening where she had slapped him.

"Your 'staying away' is what's hurting her, you insufferable, stubborn arse!" she announced furiously. 

He stared back at her in silence, the only sound between them were their ragged breaths. 

Hermione shoved at his shoulder, desperate for some kind of reaction from him as her anger and frustration spurred her on. "For someone so brilliant, you can be incredibly daft sometimes. I don't want you to climb atop the highest tower and scream your undying love for us at the top of your lungs! I don't even need you to say it! I just need you to stop pulling away from us for caring about you. I need you to stop pretending like you don’t care about us."

Still he said nothing, just stared down at her.

Hermione nearly snarled in frustration, smacking his sturdy chest with her now fisted hands. "Just say  _ something _ , dammit!"

Severus allowed her to pound on his chest for a short while before he finally stopped her, his hands coming up to grab her slender wrists. He bit back the urge to tuck the hair that had fallen loose from her bun behind her ear, but only just. He held her wrists firmly, but not painfully, in place while both of their chests heaved, their gazes burning into each other.

Hermione stared up into his eyes, shocked at the naked display of emotion warring behind them. From this close, she could see how he’d tried to hide the evidence of tears shed before her arrival. She held his gaze, willing him to make some sort of move, while at the same time wishing - only slightly - he would put an end to all of this so that she could move on and save what was left of her shattered heart.

“Where have you been?” Hermione whispered, her voice broken, not realizing the true weight that her question carried. “What happened tonight …? Talk to me, Severus. I’m right here.”

"Hermione," he spoke slowly, his gaze moving from her lips to her eyes. "I -"

At that precise moment, Dobby apparated next to them with a sharp  _ pop! _ "Miss Samantha is needing you, Miss Hermione."

Hermione blinked, tearing her eyes away from Severus to stare down at the worried elf. She was hyper aware of the position they were in, pulling her wrists free of his grip and straightening herself up. "What?"

"She's havin' a dreadful fit, she is," Dobby told her. "Screaming and crying, Dobby doesn't know what to do."

Hermione's eyes widened, and she made to leave the library immediately.

Dobby stopped her with a small hand on her leg. "Dobby will get Miss Hermione there faster, he will. And Professor Snape, too."

Before they could say anything, Dobby reached a second hand towards Severus, and with another loud  _ pop! _ they were gone.

...

They arrived in Hermione's rooms a split-second later, where Samantha's cries could be heard instantly. Leaving Dobby and Severus in the sitting room, Hermione rushed into her daughter's bedroom.

Samantha was in the midst of a terrible nightmare, drenched in sweat, tossing and turning in her small bed.

Hermione was at her side in a heartbeat, sliding onto the bed and placing her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "Sammy, wake up," she urged, shaking her shoulders gently.

Samantha's screams only grew louder, her little body fighting whatever terrors had filled her unconscious mind.

Hermione pulled her daughter off the bed, drawing her into her arms and rocking her with big, smooth movements. "Samantha, it's okay, Sweetie. Come on, wake up," she spoke in a soothing voice, rubbing circles on her back with one hand. “Mummy’s here. It’s okay, love. Mummy’s here.”

"Mummy!" she cried out, which soon turned into a sob as she started to wake up. Samantha pulled her tear-stained face from her mother's shoulder to look into her eyes, her little body still shaking. "Mummy, it hurts!" she cried out.

Hermione brushed Samantha's damp hair out of her eyes, frowning down at her. "What hurts, baby?"

Samantha's lip trembled as she pouted. "My ... here," she whimpered, putting a hand on her chest, right over her heart. "It hurts!"

Hermione closed her eyes, pulling her daughter back into her embrace as sadness seeped its way into her own body. She’d give anything to take away that pain. "Oh, Sweetie. I know … It's okay." She rocked her some more, trying to make her feel better. "What made your heart hurt?" she asked her daughter, already knowing and dreading the answer.

"I w-was calling to Daddy, but he wouldn't turn - turn around. He just l-left m-me," Samantha told her, her voice breaking with whimpers and heaving breaths. "Why does Severus hate me now, Mummy?"

Hermione opened her mouth to tell her that he didn't, that it wasn't true, but a voice at her door interrupted her.

"I don't hate you, Samantha," Severus told her honestly, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

Samantha blinked her wet, tired eyes at the man, the first time she'd seen him in days. "Then how come you left?"

Hermione turned her head to meet Severus's eyes, willing him not to make the situation worse. She almost asked Dobby to apparate him away. She’d promised she wouldn’t put Samantha into a situation that she couldn’t control … and yet here they were. 

Severus sighed, wondering if he would be where he was if he'd chosen to drown his demons in a bottle of Dreamless Sleep this evening. "I was ..." he trailed off after a moment, his flight instinct trying to overpower him. "I was ... afraid."

Samantha sniffled, wiping her tears with the back of her sleeved arm. "Afraid?"

Severus nodded.

"Of what?" the little girl wanted to know.

"Of ..."  _ Of what? Of hurting her? Of not being good enough? Of getting hurt? Of screwing things up? Of being like him … Guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty. _ Severus's thoughts threatened to make him turn heel and run, but he fought it, unable to look away from the small, heartbroken girl in Hermione's arms. "Of getting too close … to your mother, and to ... you."

"Why?" Samantha asked, her little body hiccoughing as her mother’s hands wiped at the tears staining her cheeks.

Severus brought a hand to his brow, hiding his eyes from the little girl’s stare.  _ Should've known she wouldn't make this easy for me. _ He wanted nothing more than to turn tail and run, but standing before her … before both of them, in this state … he just couldn’t leave. Not again. "Because, Samantha ... I -"

Hermione interrupted him, adjusting her daughter in her arms, squeezing her more tightly.. "Don't say something you're going to regret in the morning," she warned him, determined to protect her daughter from further heartbreak. “You can’t take it back … don’t say something you don’t mean. Not ever.” She could protect her daughter from all manner of physical harm. But heartbreak? Hearing him say those words and then losing him forever? She couldn’t bear that for her ...

Severus pursed his lips, moving his bandaged hand to brush the hair out of his face. "Because, I ..." Severus swallowed back the lump that was rising in his throat, never having had so much trouble putting a sentence together. "Because I love you, Samantha. I love you more than I ever thought possible. And I didn't want to hurt you."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, the shock of hearing the words come out of his mouth nearly being too much for her. Samantha remained still in her arms for a long moment, staring back at Severus. The room was filled with an almost unbearable silence.

Severus, convinced that he'd said the wrong thing, shifted uncomfortably. The urge to flee reared its ugly head, filling him with suffocating self-doubt. He turned to leave when Samantha's voice halted him in his tracks.

"Wait," the little girl called out, wriggling out of her mother's grasp. Her small feet padded against the floor as she traveled to her doorway, looking up at him. She was hardly a fearsome creature in her pink Niffler pajamas and large, white slippers, but Severus had never been so worried in his life; had never felt so powerless in his life. 

Samantha stopped in front of him, raising a hand with her pointer finger sticking out. She curled it slowly, motioning for him to come down to her level.

Severus could do nothing but comply, crouching down slowly and trying not to sway. Somehow he maintained his balance - truly remarkable considering the amount of alcohol he’d imbibed earlier in the evening. He was certain that if she wished to, the child in front of him could take him down with a single blow. A puff of air or cutting word would do the trick.

Once he was at eye-level, Samantha gripped his robes with one hand, clenching her tiny fist around the material tightly. "You did hurt me," she told him, sniffing once for emphasis. "You made me very sad."

Severus nodded apologetically, opening his mouth to voice his regrets, but she silenced him with her next words.

"But, I love you too. So, I forgive you," she informed him with a sniffle. Not missing a beat, she leaned forward and pulled him closer at the same time, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. The wetness from her tears transferred to his cheek, and that he’d been the one to cause those tears to fall rocked him to his core. “Don’t go away again.”

Severus dropped one knee to the floor to keep his balance, blinking his eyes in surprise before nodding slowly.

Samantha turned abruptly, returning to her bed to fetch her mother.

Hermione accepted Samantha's hand in her own, following her daughter to where Severus was standing up.

Samantha gripped his hand too, leading them out of the room. "Come on," she told them simply, heading for Hermione's room.

"Samantha, what are you doing?" Hermione asked, managing to find her voice.

"We can’t all fit in my bed," Samantha explained in a matter-of-fact voice, pulling them into the bedroom.

They heard the telltale  _ pop! _ of Dobby apparating away, leaving the three of them alone together.

Samantha tugged them forward until she reached the edge of the mattress, finally letting go of their hands. She jumped up onto the bed from the end, crawling across to the headboard and pulling down the covers. She turned back and looked at them expectantly. "Well?  _ Come on _ ! It’s past my bedtime, and I’m going to need lots of cuddles."

Hermione ignored Severus's pleading looks for an out, sliding her robes off, leaving her in a pair of comfy pants and a t-shirt. She kicked her shoes off by the side of the bed, sliding under the covers next to Samantha.

Samantha smiled softly at her mother, looking expectantly back at Severus. She patted the bed next to her, staring him down with the intensity of an opponent who knew he was no match for her.

Severus worried his lip between his teeth, flicking off the light in the room with a silent spell. He whispered a cleansing spell over himself, removing any residual odors from his adventures in France. After another moment, he slid off his own robes and shoes, leaving him in his shirt, vest, pants, and socks. He hesitated for another moment before he made his way over to the opposite side that Hermione had gone to, next to Samantha. He glanced between the two females before he slid under the covers that Samantha had already pulled back.

Samantha reached for him as soon as he was settled, curling against him and closing her eyes with a contented sigh.

Hermione watched silently as her daughter lay tucked between the two of them, her tiny arms wrapped around Severus's larger one, as though to ensure that he couldn't escape again. She lay awake, stroking her daughter's hair a few times. She could see Severus's eyes looking back at her in the dark room, but with Samantha between them, she didn't say anything just yet. She only hoped that he wouldn't regret his decision to stay, come morning.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me tell you how many times I cried doing this rewrite. 
> 
> I have no other words.
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments. 
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus and Hermione have a heart-to-heart, put their baggage firmly in the overhead compartments, and figure out how to just be happy. Remus helps move other activities along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is, I believe, the longest chapter in this story. We will find out what “happened” in France, though we may still see more of that to come, either in the end of this story, or the sequel. (And because I keep pumping the sequel, I really should get started on finishing it, shouldn’t I?)
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter … these two needed a good heart to heart.

Hermione didn't get much sleep that night. She couldn't make her body relax well enough - with Severus within arm's reach - to sleep soundly. It was for that reason why she was wide awake at half past five in the morning, staring at his form lying cuddled against Samantha on the bed.

Whatever remaining alcohol had been left in his system by the time they reached her rooms last night had allowed him to fall into a peaceful, steady slumber, but Hermione knew that wouldn't last. He would wake soon enough, and then the real drama would start.

He certainly hadn’t been drunk enough to forget what had happened last night, or why he would be waking up in her bed instead of his own. However, he might just be sober enough to walk out and try to pretend none of it had ever happened. She wouldn't let him, though. He'd told Samantha that he loved her, after hearing her quite clearly call him "Daddy". He didn't get to just walk away from that. She wouldn’t force him to commit to something he wasn’t really ready for, but the running and hiding was over. 

Before Hermione could formulate any sort of plan in her head for what she was going to say to him, his breathing changed, his body stiffened, and his eyes slowly cracked open. He was awake.

Severus looked around, noting the different feel from his own mattress, and the distinct pressure of another, smaller body against his. His eyes flickered down to see a mass of brown hair tucked against his chest, a light, snoring sound emanating from beneath the entanglement of hair. Severus blinked, his eyes rising immediately to meet the open, brown ones of Hermione Granger.

For a long moment, neither of them said a word, just lay there, staring at one another. Severus was speechless, and Hermione didn't know what to say. Where did they go from here?

Severus could only think of one thing:  _ escape _ . He began to lift his body to slide off the mattress, desperate to escape the weight of her gaze and the expectations of the little girl tucked so familiarly against him. He needed to get out of there.

Hermione's hand gripped his wrist in an instant, preventing him from fleeing and also - perhaps unintentionally - giving him an anchor. She shook her head carefully, not wanting to wake her sleeping daughter. "No."

Severus stared back at her with panic in his eyes, feeling as though her hand was burning through his skin. He whispered, "I can't -"

"You don't get to just walk away," she told him determinedly. "There are no take-backs with kids, Severus. You told her ..." She trailed off, not wanting to make him more uncomfortable than he already was. "You can't take back what you said. You can't just leave again."

Severus sighed, knowing she was right and almost hating her for it. He took a few solid breaths to steady his heart rate before nodding, waiting for her to pull her hand away.

She did after another few seconds, convinced that he wasn't going to run.

Laying on his left side with Samantha curled up against him, Severus brought his right hand up to his face, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "I ... apologize for my behavior last night," he told her, unable to meet her eyes. "It was unforgivable."

"It was definitely a different side of you than I’ve grown accustomed to," Hermione conceded.

"I'm entirely sure how I even wound up in the library," Severus admitted. "I am sorry if I frightened you. It won't happen again."

Hermione sighed, wanting to reach for his hand again, but also kind of wanting to slap him upside the head. "Would you stop treating me like I'm some delicate piece of China that's going to break?" she asked in a quiet voice, mindful of her snoozing daughter. "I can handle it."

"You shouldn't have to," he told her.

"Maybe that's true, but I could say the same for you," Hermione replied. "You shouldn't have to have gone through everything you have in your life, but you have. Bad things happen, Severus. To all of us. We move on as best as we can."

He nodded, knowing that she was right. More right than she knew.

Before he could speak, Hermione added, "But it's easier if we move on  _ together _ ."

Severus sighed, shaking his head. "I don't understand you."

Hermione frowned at that, shifting her head on her pillow. She brought her arm up, bending it at the elbow so that she could lean on her hand. "What don't you understand?"

"Everything," Severus admitted. "I don't understand how you could still be so optimistic and hopeful, after everything ..." He glanced down at Samantha, resisting the urge to brush her hair out of her face. Wild, unruly hair, just like her mother. "There is so much about you that I just don't understand."

Hermione shrugged. "So, ask me."

Severus was silent for a moment, staring back at her. "Ask? Just ... ask?"

"Yeah," Hermione replied.

"Just like that?" He seemed equal parts suspicious and incredulous. 

Hermione had to roll her eyes. " _ Just like that _ ," she promised.

_ Well, that's an interesting idea, _ Severus pondered.  _ No sneaking around, no spying, no searching for hidden meanings, or going behind her back to try and find the truth? Just ... ask? _ "So, what should I ask?" he wondered softly.

Hermione shrugged. "What do you want to know?"

The smallest traces of a grin could be seen of Severus's face, if you knew where to look. "Everything."

...

They talked for nearly two hours, voices low so as not to awaken the little girl between them. Severus wanted to learn everything he didn’t already know about Hermione Granger. Hermione was only too willing to tell him everything he wanted to know, so long as he reciprocated. She let him work his way up to telling her where he’d been the night before.

He told her about his childhood, about his father, and why he had left the Room of Requirement so suddenly, without explanation. He told her everything that Tobias Snape had done to him, and how he'd sworn that he would never do that to his children. Never  _ be _ that kind of parent. The most obvious and logical way to ensure that never happened was simply to never have children of his own. 

His brain constantly fought against him to open up with her, to stop talking and run, but he forced himself to ignore those doubts that ate away at him. Perhaps the sleeping child next to him - with her little hands clutched tightly around the fabric of his shirt - was loaning him some of her strength, even in her slumber. Opening himself up to Hermione, piece by piece, with Samantha snoring into his chest ... he could feel the weight lifting from his shoulders.

He’d been quiet for a long moment, reflecting on that notion, when he felt Hermione’s hands trail over the dried blood on his knuckles. The sensation was more ticklish than painful, but it brought his eyes up to meet hers again. 

“What happened last night, Severus?” she asked him, her voice soft and hushed. 

He swallowed heavily, unable for the longest time to meet her eyes. He felt her move her fingers to his wrist, squeezing gently, trying to reassure him. It struck him to find himself in such a wholly vulnerable state, something he avoided at all costs, and yet now that he’d started opening up to her, he found he couldn’t quite stop. 

“I was attempting to find closure,” he commented at last. “I suppose you could say you inspired me in that regard.” 

At another time she’d have taken his words for sardonic, but now found herself smiling slightly at his words. “And this closure was in France?”

Severus sighed deeply, shifting the wrist she held in her grip. He felt her pull her hand away, perhaps thinking he was uncomfortable with the contact, so he followed as she departed, connecting the pads of his fingers against hers. She said nothing, allowing him to continue. He could almost feel her pulse against his own digits. “My parents are. My father … well, what’s left of him, anyway.” 

Hermione’s eyes widened, her brow rising at the news. After everything he’d told her about his father, she understood more why finding him might make him inclined to drown his sorrows in a bottle of Firewhisky.

“What’s left of him?” Hermione wondered, curling the tips of her fingers under his. “Do you mean …?”

“I invented a way to track someone, by way of blood magic and a touch of potioneering,” he commented slowly, finding support in the way her fingers pressed against his. “It led me to Dinan, France. I don’t know exactly what I expected to find, but … once I got into the heart of the town, the guiding spell split into two paths. I took one path, and it led me to the Cimiti è re de Dinan. I found his grave not long after. He … died some time ago.” 

“I’m sorry, Severus.”

Severus shook his head slightly, his dark hair failing over his eyes in a curtain, shielding his face from her view. “I’m not.”

She brushed her fingers over his palm. “Those wounds on your knuckles might disagree with you on that.” 

He forced out a dry chuckle. “I confess, I may have lost my temper against his tombstone … once or twice. It’s not my proudest moment, though to be fair, I can’t say I have many of those.”

Hermione’s heart broke for him, but she willed herself not to cry. This moment was not about her emotions. “And … your mother?”

He remained hidden behind that careful shield of black hair, sighing deeply. “Alive, apparently. She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“She told you that?” Hermione asked, though she felt she knew the answer. 

He chuckled darkly. “He’s been dead for years, Hermione. She’s had plenty of time to come and find me. My position and presence in this school is by no means a secret from the wizarding world.” His jaw tightened, but he forced his voice to remain soft, not wanting to disturb the miraculously still sleeping child next to him. “Any closure I might have received was robbed by his death. Forcing her to confront the child she clearly has no interest in won’t do anyone any good. There’s no need to dredge up old ghosts any more than I already have.” He could still see his father’s name etched into the headstone, the “beloved husband” glaring back at him with sarcastic mockery.

She wanted to argue with him, wanted to tell him not to give up hope, but hesitated at the memory of her own failed parental reconciliation. She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, deciding to move past the issue of his mother for now. 

“So, you decided to drown your sorrows at the nearest pub?”

He chuckled again at that, finally pulling his hair back from his face and leaning up on an elbow. “I’m not sure  _ Le Saut de la Puce _ counts as a pub, though it did serve its purpose. It is fortunate I didn’t splinch myself apparating back, though I do believe the drinking didn’t end upon my return to Hogwarts.” He glanced back down at Samantha, suddenly ashamed that she’d seen him in such a state. “I apologize again for my behavior, Hermione. It was … unacceptable.” 

Hermione nodded her agreement. “Yes, it was. If I was perhaps a little more clear-headed myself, I probably wouldn’t have let you stay here last night. Alcohol and kids … you know how I feel about staying in control around Samantha. Whatever happens with this relationship, wherever we go from here … that can’t happen around her. Not ever.”

“I know,” Severus replied, nodding his own head. “I assure you, it won’t.” He felt her squeeze his hand again, returning the gesture after a moment.

She brought her free hand to his face, trying over the skin of his cheek. “I should also apologize,” she whispered, running the pads of her finger over his morning stubble. “I shouldn’t have hit you. That’s not … that’s not the kind of person I want to be, either.” 

Severus’s eyes fluttered closed briefly, pressing into the warmth of her palm. “I imagine it won’t be easy, and I can’t promise I would be any good at it, but … if you’re willing, perhaps we can consider this a fresh start? Forget the demons of our past and just …” his voice caught on the words, “... be happy?” 

Hermione smiled, wanting very much to kiss him. “I’d like that. On one condition.”

The open concern that passed his face nearly broke her heart all over again. “Yes?”

She moved slightly closer to him on the bed, almost touching his legs with her cold toes, but deciding to spare him that particular pain for now. She smiled reassuringly at his nervous expression, moving her hand from his cheek to drift through the softness of his hair, curling her fingers just behind his ear and against his neck. “No more hiding,” she whispered, looking deep into his dark eyes. “No more running … from either of us.” 

Severus was quiet for a long moment, the only sounds between them where the thumping of their hearts, the shifting of the bedsheets, and Samantha’s soft snores. He tipped his forehead down, looking at the little girl between them who’d already claimed him as her own. His heart clenched as he watched her little chest rise and fall, knowing that she was everything that he was afraid of destroying, and everything he so desperately wanted to deserve. To be worthy of.

He wasn’t sure that he would ever be worthy of the kind of love these two Granger women were willing to bestow upon him. But if it meant they never had to cry because of him again, he would sure as hell try. Slowly, purposefully, he nodded his head. “No more running.”

… 

Hermione was thankful that it was the weekend, and they wouldn’t have classes again until Monday morning. There was no need to get out of bed early, or even rush to the Great Hall for breakfast. They could stay right where they were until they were needed for office hours or to patrol the hallways.

Severus continued on his quest to get to know her better. He asked about her happiest moments and greatest fears, asked her to tell him about Samantha; what she'd been like as a baby, and a young toddler. Hermione happily told him all about her little girl, the smile on her face slowly eliciting smaller grins of his own. 

The girl in question began stirring a little after eight o'clock, releasing her grip on Severus's shirt to roll over onto her back. "Mummy?" Samantha mumbled, winking her eyes open.

"Hey, Sweetie," Hermione greeted, brushing her daughter's messy hair out of her face. "Good morning."

Samantha scrunched up her face in a big yawn, reaching her arms above her head to stretch her body back and forth. Her right fist bumped Severus's nose, and she blinked in surprise, looking over at him. "Oh, hi," she said, blinking up at him.

Not knowing what else to say, Severus replied, "Hello."

Samantha grinned, leaning up to kiss him on his cheek again. She rolled over, giving her mother a kiss as well, before jumping up off the bed and trotting out of the room in search of the bathroom.

"Is she always going to do that?" Severus wondered, bringing a hand to his cheek.

Hermione didn't even try to stop the smile that slipped onto her face. "Get used to it."

Severus nodded silently, gazing at Hermione. It had been a long time since he'd been alone in bed with a woman, never mind having the opportunity to wake up to someone so beautiful and caring ... and forgiving.

Hermione broke the silence, clearing her throat. "I should probably summon a house elf to bring breakfast," she stated, pulling the covers off of her body and slipping out of the bed.

Severus stood with her, glancing at his robes on the floor. He still felt the urge to make amends after his actions the previous night. "I'm sure I could make a suitable breakfast, if you’re not opposed to me calling for supplies from the kitchens."

Hermione glanced at him, raising her eyebrows. "You want to cook us breakfast?"

Severus shrugged. "Consider it an apology meal."

Hermione sighed, wondering if he was ever going to let himself off the hook - for anything.

...

"If this is your idea of an apology breakfast, then I just might have to hold this over your head for many,  _ many _ years," Hermione professed, rubbing her full stomach affectionately.

Severus's lips quirked in a small, appreciative smile.

"What are we gonna do today, Mummy?" Samantha wondered, scooping up another mouthful of pancakes.

"You're going to that Carnival with Uncles Fred and George and Grandpa Arthur, remember?" Hermione answered her daughter. Arthur Weasley had been dying to visit a muggle ‘Carnival of Magic’ since he’d seen it advertised in one of his newspapers, and Fred and George had agreed to bring Samantha along for the fun. She wasn’t sure what would be more fun … the Carnival, or watching Arthur’s excitement at it all. 

"Oh, right," Samantha nodded, looking slightly disappointed.

"What's wrong, Sweetie?" Hermione wanted to know.

Samantha sighed dramatically. "I wanted to do something with Severus today."

Severus shifted slightly in his seat, poking at his own breakfast.

"Severus isn’t going anywhere, Sweetie,” Hermione told her daughter, believing it far more than she might have when she woke up that morning. “Besides, your Uncles and Grandpa will be terribly disappointed to not see you today, won’t they?" Hermione asked her daughter. "They've been looking forward to this for a couple weeks, and I know you have as well."

Samantha nodded her head, still solemn. "I guess ..." She pouted for another moment before slowly raising her head and squinting at her mum. “Maybe Severus could read me a bedtime story later?” Her little voice perked up at the end of her question, her voice dripping with an innocent sweetness. 

Hermione worked hard to not smirk at her manipulative child.  _ Okay … perhaps a touch of Slytherin in there …  _ “If that’s okay with Severus, it’s okay with me,” she replied evenly.

Samantha brightened immediately, bobbing her head excitedly. "Will you, Severus?"

Severus didn’t understand how she could be so endlessly excited to spend time with him. After his conversation with Hermione this morning, and the agreement they had made, he no longer felt the need to push away from her open affection, however foreign the affection seemed. The smallest of smiles pulled at his lips as he tipped his head towards her. "Indeed, I shall."

Samantha grinned, scooping for another bite that missed her mouth entirely.

...

And so their relationship fell back into a new, comfortable routine. Severus would come over on nights when he and Hermione weren't working in the lab and read to Samantha. They had read through the books he’d given her, and branched into a few of his own choosing. She would beg and plead for him to stay the night, though he had conceded to this request only a handful of times. On those evenings the three of them would trudge into Hermione's room together and fall asleep with Samantha settled comfortably between them. In the mornings, he would make them breakfast. 

They had become a sort of strange, yet wonderful happy family unit, except that Severus and Hermione had yet to tackle the all too real question of their physical relationship. They had discovered a comfortable level of familiarity and companionship, and they were certainly intimate in more meaningful ways than they had been before, but their physical relationship had rather … stalled. Should she be the one to make the first move, or would he prefer to? 

The answer to that question came unexpectedly during dinner at the beginning of June, while she and the other teachers were dining at the Head Table in the Great Hall.

"No Samantha today?" Remus wondered, sipping delicately at his pumpkin juice.

Hermione shook her head. "She's spending the weekend with Harry and Ginny, doing some bonding with her 'cousin'," she told him, finishing up the last of her pudding. “We’ll see if she’s as excited about the prospect of helping change James’s diapers when she comes back, as she was before she left,” Hermione joked.

Remus glanced at Severus out of the corner of his eye before he replied, "So, you've got the place to yourself for a little bit, then? No pitter patter of little feet ... no 'little ears'?"

Hermione swallowed the pumpkin juice in her mouth in a much larger gulp than she’d intended, wincing at the pain and turning to look at him. She saw Severus's stone-faced expression, followed by Remus's amused one, and nearly rolled her eyes. "I suppose."

"Any big plans?" Remus wondered, all but nudging Severus's shoulder.

Hermione wondered if anyone would notice if Severus stabbed him in the leg with the knife he was gripping tightly in his pale hand. She’s not sure she would blame him. " _ Not at the moment _ ," she replied, with an edge to her voice that clearly said, 'quit it'.

"Well, I'm sure you'll find  _ something _ to pass the time," Remus added, taking another jovial sip of his drink.

Severus waited exactly three seconds before standing up from the table, throwing an undisguised glare at Remus before retreating from the room.

Hermione was the one to reach over and smack Remus this time.

"What?" he asked innocently, rubbing his arm and carefully setting down his goblet.

"What is the  _ matter _ with you?" Hermione wanted to know, annoyed.

Remus sighed, setting his pumpkin juice back down on the table. "Just giving the man a little nudge."

"You're being positively juvenile," Hermione informed him, fighting the flush that was making its way up her neck.

"Hey, you want to continue this passive-aggressive dance around one another? Be my guest," Remus replied. "I just want to see two of my friends happy."

Hermione paused at that, feeling her anger abating slightly.

"Besides, with Samantha out of the 'house', there are no excuses not to be … how do the kids say it -  _ ‘getting lucky’ _ ," the werewolf added with a smirk.

Hermione didn't feel too bad about sending his remaining pumpkin juice into the air and dumping it on his head.

...

Hermione sat in her office later that day, grading a stack of papers. The majority of the younger students at Hogwarts had little-to-no experience with muggles, and some of their answers were outright laughable, but a few of her students were eager to broaden their understanding. Their essays were a joy to read.

A small tapping on her door alerted her to the presence of her visitor.

"Yes?" she spoke, glancing up. "Oh ... hello, Severus."

He nodded his greeting, stepping into the room, his hands clasped behind his back. "Are you busy?"

Hermione shrugged, setting her quill down. "Just getting a head-start on my marking before my rounds."

Severus nodded, coming to a stop by the front of her desk.

She glanced at him in silence for a moment, wondering what he wanted. "Can I help you with something?"

"No, I don't require assistance, I ..." he trailed off, wondering why she made him so tongue-tied all of the time. "I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to dinner this evening."

"Oh," Hermione muttered quietly, remembering the awkwardness of that morning’s breakfast. "I'm ... available," she replied.

Severus nodded. "I thought that perhaps we could ... would you mind if we dined in tonight? I thought I might prepare a meal in my rooms." He said the last bit with the smallest trace of an incline in his voice, displaying his nervousness unintentionally.

Hermione blinked in surprise, but smiled softly. "That would be wonderful." A small part of her mind was screaming,  _ finally!  _ while the other part of her mind raced with anxiety.

"Very well," Severus replied, taking a step away from the desk. "I'll see you there at six?"

Hermione nodded. "I look forward to it."

He left the room without another word, causing Hermione to smile in response. She kind of enjoyed the flustered/unsure-of-himself Severus Snape ... he was cute. Not that she would tell him that just yet - didn't want him running away again.

Now … what the hell was she going to wear?  _ Merlin, I need to shave my legs! _

...

Hermione arrived promptly at six, not wanting to appear too eager by being early, or stir up his ire by being late. He was ready at the door when she knocked, and she smiled in greeting. She forced herself not to play with her hair, happy that she'd done it up in a braid before she'd come down.

"You look lovely," Severus told her, taking in the sight of her light-blue dress, the translucent sleeves ending just above her delicate wrists.

"Thank you," Hermione replied, stepping into the room so that he could close the door. "You look quite handsome as well."

He was dressed in a dark shirt and vest, with dark dress pants. Very sleek and attractive. "You're not too chilled, are you?" he asked her, seeing as she wasn't wearing her teacher's robes, or other dress robes.

Hermione shook her head. "I'm fine. I didn't want to chance leaving my robes here again," she joked.

Severus allowed a small smirk at her comment, though he wouldn’t have minded her leaving her robes behind … or other articles of clothing.  _ Simmer down, Severus _ , he told himself before that thought could get away from him. He led her into the dining area, pulling out her chair for her to sit.

She thanked him again, looking at the feast that he had prepared. "This looks incredible, Severus" she commented, gazing at the various dishes.

"I wasn't sure what you would prefer, so I made a few choices," Severus told her, sitting across from her at the small, intimate table.

"It all looks so good, I don't know where to start," Hermione admitted.

"I am partial to this dish," he suggested, presenting the dish of carbonara stuffed potatoes.

Hermione smiled, accepting the food. "Then that's where I'll start," she agreed, thanking him with her eyes.

They completed the rest of the meal in a series of short, awkward conversations, neither of them really knowing how to act with one another after so long between "dates" … Samantha had joined them on most of their evenings together. Hermione made random comments about the food, or asked him questions about how he prepared it. Severus answered each question succinctly, his voice slightly strained. 

After dinner they remained at the dining room table, each nursing a single glass of wine, drinking it slowly, forestalling the transition to … other activities.

By the end of the evening, Hermione was feeling antsy and overwhelmed. She had come into the evening with an idea of how it would go, and that wasn’t happening. Should she invite him back for drinks, would he ask her to stay? How would they say goodnight - handshake, kiss, simple farewell? She was torn between not wanting the evening to end, and wanting it to be over with as quickly as possible, so that she could get out of there and end the gut-churning anxiety taking over her brain.

"Well, this was fun," Hermione told him, standing awkwardly from her chair. "A lovely evening."

"We should do it again sometime soon," Severus offered, rising along with her and stepping awkwardly towards the front door. His own nerves had clearly gotten the best of him as well.

Hermione nodded, following him out of the room and back to the front door. "Absolutely."

They came to a stop in the foyer, glancing at the door. "Well ... good evening," Severus stated.

"To you as well," Hermione added.

They both reached for the door at the same time, Severus's hand folding over top of hers without meaning to. Trapped between his grip and the door, Hermione stared at his hand, following it up to his arm. The heat of his light grip grounded her suddenly, stealing her breath away. Her eyes caressed the exposed skin of his neck, past his hair tucked behind his ear, across his pursed lips, and finally up to his dark eyes, made even darker by his dilated pupils. 

This close to him, she was surrounded by the scent of him - spices and smoke, and the hint of his soap and shampoo from the shower he must have taken shortly before her arrival. Hermione swallowed nervously, her eyelids fluttering as she tried to make some sort of sound.

Severus's hand twitched against hers briefly, her only warning before he closed the remaining distance between them, completely filling her space, his larger frame making her feel small in a way that was not altogether unappealing.

Hermione hoped that she didn't look fearful, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth as he loomed above her, and forced herself not to gulp again. Her skin flushed with heat and the back of her neck began to tingle, her heart fluttering madly as he drew nearer still.

"Should I stop?" Severus breathed out when he was less than an inch from her lips, peering down at her through half-lidded eyes.

Hermione spared a second’s thought about where this really wanted this night to end before she gave him her answer. "No," she whispered. “Don’t stop,” and then there was no going back.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The “slow” part of “slow burn” is finally coming to an end. ;) 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Severus take the next step in their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the wait on this chapter. Work and life has gotten busier (my library just re-opened to the public after our second Covid closure), and I’ve given up soda/caffeine, so I’ve been crashing earlier in the evenings than I usually do.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Please let me know what you think in the comments.
> 
> And now, the moment we've all been waiting for ...

The warmth of his lips on hers spread throughout her entire body. Shocked it into awakening. It was powerful and soothing at the same time, and Hermione felt as though she were on one of those amusement park rides with the teacups, spinning faster and faster, the entire world spinning with her. As Severus's lips lit a slow-burning fire against her own, she couldn’t help feeling as though the greatest ride of their lives had truly just begun.

Hermione’s hand fell away from the doorknob, pulling his hand with her. She turned her hand in his, linking their fingers together and squeezing. Grounding them both.

Severus paused against her lips, blinking his eyes open to meet her soft, brown ones. His nose nudged against hers gently, a soft puff of air ghosting over the flushed skin of her cheeks.

Hermione pulled back from the kiss, looking down as she tried to get her rapid heartbeat under control.

Severus's free hand came up to her arm, sliding over the soft fabric of her dress, up to her shoulder. His hand ghosted over her neck, drawing a shiver from her body and a light gasp from her lips, before he drew his forefinger along the curve of her jaw, his thumb cupping her chin. His remaining fingers just barely touched her neck, using just enough pressure to angle her head upwards, meeting her eyes with his.

"Hermione, I lo- ..." The rest of that sentence was lost in his throat. He looked down, hiding from her gaze, shame filling his eyes before he could hide it.

Hermione waited with baited breath, daring to hope at what he was trying to say, trying to subtly lend him some of her strength.

Severus shook his head, clearly struggling with himself to get the words out.

Hermione closed her eyes, shaking her head and pressing herself up on her tiptoes. Her palm found the side of his face, drawing him down until their foreheads were touching. "It's okay," she whispered, keeping her eyes closed. She didn't see Severus gazing at her with timid, open eyes. Eyes that were filled with everything that he wanted to say. "You don't have to say it," she assured him, before she tilted her head to meet his lips once more.

Severus surrendered himself to the feeling, promising himself that one day he would have the courage to tell her how he truly felt about her.

Their hands remained joined, their arms bending at the elbows to bring their clasped hands next to one another's faces. Hermione squeezed his hand once, before sliding her fingers free and bringing her hand to his opposite cheek, so that she was framing his face with her small hands.

Severus responded by deepening the kiss, bringing his arms around her and holding her tightly.

Hermione slipped down off of her tip-toes, slightly heady from the kiss, but brought Severus along with her. Her back came into contact with the hard, wooden door to his chambers, drawing a gasp from both of them.

Severus took the opportunity of their parted mouths to flick his tongue between her lips, coming into brief contact with her own.

Hermione sank into the feeling, pressing her body into his. She noticed several things at that point. First, his embrace was quite possibly the most comforting and secure hold that she had ever experienced. Quickly following that, she discovered that certain motions - such as wrapping her in said embrace and holding her against a solid door - caused the muscles that she already knew were firm to tighten into a delectably hard form. Third, and quite possibly the most important observation, was that his upper body muscles were not the only parts of his body that were hard. Her body arched into his, coming into contact with a part of him that was not nearly as shy or unsure as the rest of him, pressing hard against her stomach.

Hermione blinked her eyes wide at the feeling, blushing when Severus pulled back from their heated kiss to regard her in confusion.

It didn't take long for him to realize what had given her pause, and he removed his hands from her body slowly, pressing them flat against the wooden material behind her and taking a half-step back. "If you wish to slow things down, I completely understand." He refused to put her in a position that she was unprepared for ... he felt as though he owed her so much more than that.

"I want ..." Hermione broke off mid-sentence, looking no higher or lower than his chest, where her hands had slid down from his face. It was the safest option at the moment. "I would ..."

Severus exhaled in a half-sigh, waiting for her inevitable rejection.

"I'd like you to show me to your bedroom, if you wouldn't mind," Hermione managed to speak, forcing away the blush that crept up her delicate neck.

Severus swallowed nervously at her request. He'd been in hers more times than he could count, but she'd never once stepped foot into his private bedroom. "Are you certain?" he asked her, one last time.

Hermione pursed her lips together, knowing what walking into that room would entail. After a moment, she nodded her head purposefully. She pushed her body away from the door, bringing her hands away from his chest and grabbing his left hand with her right.

Severus gazed down at her for another moment before turning away from the door, pulling her behind him and leading her through his rooms.

They moved through the living room, Hermione glancing at the spot on the carpet where he'd brought her back down from her panic attack, his hand rubbing her back while his other was linked with hers on the floor. They continued on, past an open door that led to what appeared to be a private library. Hermione leaned her head back as they continued on, trying to get a better look inside.

"I assure you, you may examine the contents within that room at length on  _ any _ other occasion," Severus stated with just a hint of a smirk, giving her a gentle tug and continuing along to his bedroom.

Hermione smiled softly at that, following behind him. She brought her free hand up to grip his upper arm, feeling a warmth seep through her at the tensing of his muscles.

Soon enough, they were standing at the doorway to his bedroom. With a nonverbal spell, Severus lit the lantern-like torches along the walls of his room, providing a warm, golden light for them to see.

Peering around him, Hermione took in the sight before her. A very Slytherin mixture of black and green, with accents of silver to keep the room from being overwhelmed by darkness. His carpet was a plush-looking dark grey, stretching across to the forest-green walls. The silver light fixtures decorated the walls, allowing their eyes to move across the room, past the wardrobe in the corner and the bedside tables, and up to the four-poster bed in the middle of the wall to their right. The bed posts were a shining silver, gleaming in the light from the torches, with outlines of snake etchings visible on the metal. Next, her gaze moved to the large blanket covering most of the bed, in all its deep green glory. The thick blanket covered all the way up to the dark, black pillow coverings. Hermione imagined the sheets were a similar color, and flushed at the thought.

Severus cleared his throat awkward, stepping across the threshold and bringing her along with him. They moved into the room silently, coming to a stop beside the bed.

Hermione attempted to calm her nerves by sitting down on the mattress - the decidedly comfortable mattress. Her blush deepened.

"Are you sure you wish to -"

"Would you stop trying to talk me out of this?" Hermione replied, meeting his eyes with a fierce certainty. "I want this. I want ... you. I just ... can we take it slow?"

Severus nodded, sitting on the bed beside her. "Of course," he assured her, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek. He drew her towards him slowly, hesitating briefly before her lips.

Hermione closed the remaining distance between their waiting mouths, pressing her lips against his. She felt the pressure of his tongue swiping against her bottom lip, asking for entrance. She let him in, turning her body so that her right hand rested on the bed while the other came up to his chest, dragging over the fabric of his shirt, tucked under his robes.

Severus's free hand came to join hers, his palm settling over the back of her hand. He held her hand against his chest, both of them feeling the pounding of his heart beneath, showing just how much she affected him.

Hermione found herself completely under the spell of his embrace. She kicked her heels off, pulling up the hem of her dress and slowly sliding one leg over Severus’s waste. His arms tightened around her, adjusting her in his lap so that she could feel him against her. 

Severus brushed a few loose strands of hair away from her face, tucking them gently into her braided hair. When he looked back at her eyes, they had drifted closed. He leaned forward to kiss each eyelid softly in turn.

Hermione blinked her eyes open as he drew away from her, surprised at such a ... 'loving' gesture. As she gazed into his dark orbs, she was struck by how open they were. She was just getting used to seeing him open up around Samantha, but to see her looking at her like that ... with eyes so open and honest. It was breath-taking. He might not have the words just yet, but his eyes told her that he wanted to make this moment - this night - perfect for her.

Hermione mimicked his movements, brushing the hair out of his own eyes as she smiled at him. She let her fingers trail through the silky locks, drifting down his neck to where skin met clothing. Her fingers toyed with the edge of his dark vest briefly before she slowly, purposefully began pulling it off of his shoulders.

Severus helped remove the clothing in silence, moving his arms to pull it the rest of the way off. It would be easy enough to charm the rest of their clothes off - they were both well aware - but as Hermione's fingers moved towards the buttons of his long-sleeved shirt, he knew that she wanted to do it herself. Some things shouldn’t be rushed. 

Button by button, she relieved him of the burden of his shirt, flicking the cufflinks open to pull the material down his arms. He’d forgone an undershirt tonight, his alabaster skin seeming more pale that usual against the darker shades of his room. He had to let go of her waist to let her complete the job of removing his shirt, feeling her tighten her knees around him in response to the loss of stability. He nearly groaned at the sensation, but held back for now.

With his sleeves out of the way, the black tattoo on his forearm stood out brightly against his pale skin. Severus moved to hide the mark, not wanting to spoil the mood, but Hermione stopped him.

"Don't hide yourself from me, Severus," Hermione whispered, pulling his arm closer to her. The bed shifted as he leaned his weight and hers on his other hand, Hermione bringing the arm to her lips. She kissed the eternal memento of his previous life with her soft lips, burning a path all around the tattooed flesh, until she came back to where she'd started. She wanted to show him that she loved  _ all _ of him, not just the good things, but another, smaller part of her was stalling. Finding herself lying on a bed with a half-naked man ... her heart was racing a mile a minute.

Severus's voice cut through the din, drawing her eyes to his face. "Hermione,” he croaked, sounding like he’d just walked through a desert and she was his oasis of water. “Do you know what you do to me?"

Hermione turned a light shade of pink at that query, the evidence of his affection still quite prominent beneath her. She rocked gently forward, the pink in her cheeks settling into a beautiful red flush as they gasped together, both needing more.

He urged her close once more and caught her lips in another kiss, searing his affection and intention into her memory. His hands came up to her shoulders, finding the zipper at her back, pulling it down slowly and easing down the sleeves of her dress, his fingers ghosting over the skin they passed.

Severus felt her body tense slightly, so he brought his fingers back up, pressing a kiss to her cheek. The few tendrils of her curly hair that had fallen again from her braid were taunting him, so he diverted his attention to the done-up hair. Starting at the bottom, he removed the hair tie and set it down on the table beside his bed. Next, he moved his fingers into the braided hair, slowly and carefully separating the waves as he moved his fingers through, getting higher and higher as he went. With each section of hair released, he pressed a kiss to her cheek, her shoulder, her forehead ... anywhere he could reach. Finally, her hair was free. With a light ruffle from his hand, her hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her small face.

Severus pulled back to look at her, allowing a small smile to grace the corner of his mouth. "Beautiful," he commented earnestly.

Hermione's mouth parted at his words, and a second later she threw her arms around him and nearly knocked him backwards on the bed, pulling him back to her lips in a heated, frenzied kiss.

His arms wrapped around her, kissing her back with equal passion, letting his hands slide onto the exposed skin of her back, massaging the area.

Unable to wait any longer, Hermione pulled her arms free of her dress one at a time, feeling it pool at her waist as their bodies moved against one another. She gasped lightly at the feeling of their chests pressed together, leaning further into him. Her mind wondered what it would feel like if her bra weren't separating their skin from searing together. Her hands drifted between them, down to his trousers, finding the buckle of his belt. With a click and a  _ whoosh _ of leather against the belt loops of his pants, the belt came free, dropping down onto the floor beside the large bed. Next, her fingers moved to the snaps on his pants, easing them open.

Severus grabbed her hips, lifting her against him as he stood and turned. She had but a moment to marvel at how easily he carried her, before he leaned over the bed and placed her gently in the middle of it. He stood back from the bed and pulled his pants free from his legs, leaving them and his socks in a pile on the ground. He turned back to Hermione, reaching for the dress and easing it down over her hips. 

Hermione felt the material of the dress move over her skin as thought everything were happening in slow motion. Her breath sounded loud in her ears when he finally pulled the material down her legs and past her naked feet. 

When he turned to set the dress on a chair so it wouldn't get wrinkled or disturbed in any way, Hermione pulled the blanket down, discovering the definitely black-colored sheets beneath. As she looked down at the dark sheets under her thighs, the white lines on her skin caught her eye, and she suddenly felt exposed. No one - not even the Weasleys - had seen the scars that her clothes had hidden for so long. She scrambled to grab the blanket before Severus returned to the bed.

He caught her movements, walking around to the other side of the bed to join her under the covers. "What's wrong?" he asked her, hesitant to touch her.

Hermione looked away. "My ... scars," she told him quietly. "I don't want you to see ..."

Severus hesitated, having a relative notion of what those scars would look like, and why she’d want to hide them. She had seen the scars on his body, and she wasn't running away. He wouldn't run from her, either. Repeating her own words, Severus brought a finger to her chin and made her look at him. "Don't hide yourself from me, Hermione. I want all of you … just as you are."

She pursed her lips, her fingers digging softly into the blanket clutched to her chest. Hermione blinked a couple of times, looking down at the blanket as she steadied her breathing.

Severus brought his hand up to the blanket, curving his fingers over hers.

Hermione slowly released her hold, letting the blanket go.

Severus settled beside her under the covers, his own dark hair framing both of their faces as their lips joined together once more. Steadying his weight above her, Severus began kissing a trail from her lips to her ear, and down along the curve of her jaw. His kisses burned a path down her neck, past her collar bone, sinking into the shallow slope between her breasts. He peered down at her body beneath him, seeing a couple white lines peeking out from the skin underneath her bra.

Severus's lips twitched slightly before pressing against the first scar. He moved further down the mattress, revealing the skin of her belly. As the dim light from the torches hit her newly discovered flesh, more scars could be seen. He chided himself briefly for never noticing the marks on her arms, though it occurred to him belatedly that she’d worn long sleeves or robes since she’d returned to the school in the summer. This was, truly, their first time seeing all of each other.

He didn't travel further down with his eyes; he didn't want to torture her with his gaze. Severus leaned his head down, bringing his lips to a curved scar just above her navel. He felt her sharp intake of breath when his lips touched the ever-so-slightly rippled skin of the scar, but he pressed on, caressing the skin with his lips and tongue. He repeated the action with the next scar he found, and the next, until he had lavished nearly her entire body with his sweet gesture and devilish mouth.

Severus made his way back up her body after what seemed like hours, noticing the lovely flush that had covered her neck and breasts. Her chest was rising up and down in uneven, rushed movements, her eyes closed and her mouth parted. She truly was a goddess. He wished that he could tell her how much he really did love her ... he wished he could open his mouth and tell her how beautiful she was, how he wanted to be with her forever. There were so many things that he wanted to tell her, but he just couldn't get the words out.

After a moment's debate, he shifted his weight onto one arm, bringing the other to brush across her cheek. "Open your eyes," he spoke in a soft, but still silky voice.

Hermione blinked her eyes open, gazing up at him through hazy, half-lidded eyes.

Once their gazes locked together, Severus whispered a spell, easing his way into her mind and allowing the words that he couldn't say out loud to find their way to her another way. " _ You have no idea just how beautiful you are to me, Hermione Granger, _ " he spoke into her mind, lowering the hand from her face to slowly slide under her back, unhooking the clasp of her bra. He banished it to the other side of the room with a clever display of wandless magic, focusing his attention back to her eyes. " _ You don't know how I wish I could go back and prevent the horrible things that happened ... how I wish I could back and stop myself from ever having been so unpleasant to you, my clever little witch. How I could ever have hurt such a wonderful creature escapes me. _ "

Hermione's eyes fluttered in surprise at his thoughts, forcing herself to hold his gaze. She brought a hand to his cheek, praying she wouldn't start to tear up.

Severus faltered a moment before banishing each of their remaining undergarments, trailing one hand slowly down her body before settling where she needed his touch most. His fingers moved in a steady pattern over her sensitive folds, his thumb circling and pressing in just the right timing to make her heels dig into the softness of his mattress.

_ I’ve wanted this … with you, for so long. I could scarcely allow myself to believe that I would ever deserve it … deserve you. If I do nothing for the rest of my days, I would very much like to do this. See you, like this, that beautiful flush that creeps up your neck and spreads across your breasts. The way your eyelashes flutter and your core tightens when you’re getting closer to that peak. The complete and utter trust in your eyes when you look at me … I could get high on that feeling alone, my dear Hermione. _

Hermione arched off the bed pressing herself further into his hand and body as she fell over the edge, her mouth parted in a silent scream, toes curling, legs twitching. He stroked her gently through the aftershocks of her climax, waiting until her breathing had slowed again before settling his body more comfortably over hers. " _ Are you ready? _ " he asked her silently.

Hermione stared into his eyes, so open and full of emotion. It was breathtaking. She nodded her head, bringing her other hand away from her side to grip his shoulder. She held onto him for dear life, unable to look away from his dark eyes.

Severus entered her mind and body at the same time, allowing more silent words to seep into her thoughts as he gently guided himself into her warmth. " _ When I first saw you here last summer, I was desperate to find out everything there was to know about you. I thought it was mere curiosity at first, brought on by mindless boredom. Then I began to discover the person you really are. _ " His movements were slow at first, allowing her time to become accustomed to the feeling of him within her.

It took everything within her not to close her eyes and arch her neck backwards, but Hermione didn't want to lose the connection of their minds, the honest words he was speaking only to her.

Without closing his own eyes, Severus lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her softly on her parted lips and stealing the breath from her. " _ I learned to know you as a mother, a colleague, a friend, a partner ... and now, a lover. _ "

Hermione gripped the broadness of his back, her heels finding his calves and then his thighs as she pulled her legs close to him. Her muscles tensed as she found her body rising once again to that place he’d brought her to once already. She was no stranger to masterbation, but this … this was addictive. She would crave the sensations he was sending throughout her body for the rest of her life.

" _ Life has given us both scars that we would rather hide, or wish away. But right here, right now ... I wouldn't have you any other way. To me ... you are utter perfection." _ His pace began to increase, unable to contain his passion for her much longer. His eyes slid shut as he found her mouth once more, caressing her breast with one hand and wishing he could touch all of her at once.

Hermione had little time to breathe in a sharp gasp before she was keening under him again, her fingers and nails pressing into his back, clinging desperately to him. This felt like what her first time should been. She hadn’t allowed herself to share this kind of connection with anyone for years. She'd never known it could feel this amazing. She'd never believed it could ever be this wonderful. Hermione wished that he was still connected to her mind - she didn't have the strength to voice everything that she wanted to tell him. She couldn't have even if she'd had the strength, as his lips and tongue kept her mouth plenty occupied with scorching, desperate kisses.

The fire within her grew hotter and hotter, and just when she thought that she wouldn't be able to stand it anymore, that glorious feeling began to erupt within her, somehow more powerful than the last. Her hazy mind rationalized that it was similar to being struck by lightning, but from the inside, and not nearly as painful. What started as a slow-burning fire from within her core slowly became a fearsome, blazing inferno. Under his ministrations, that fire was stoked into little sparks of electricity, each one bigger than the last. Hermione's body grew warmer and warmer, flushing red as she arched herself off the mattress and against his firm body. Sweat trickled down her neck, though she could barely feel it amongst the other sensations. Her entire world revolved around the electric surge filling her entire body. The seconds passed, feeling much longer than mere fractions in time. Her body was alight with a passion that rocked her to her core.

When Severus pulled away from the most passionate and heated kiss he'd ever experienced, finally reaching his own peak, three words stumbled from Hermione's mouth without permission. "I love you."

...

They lay together on his large bed, their naked bodies hidden by the sweat-covered sheets, the torches along the walls providing enough heat to keep them from shivering. Hermione's head rested on his outstretched arm, looking up at him. His other hand was stretched across his chest, covering hers where it rested above his heart.

"Thank you," Severus spoke finally, breaking the silence.

Hermione tilted her head to look up at him, furrowing her brow and gazing at him curiously. "For what?"

"For allowing me to ... and trusting me to ..." He trailed off, unable to finish.

Hermione shook her head, sitting up carefully in the bed. Severus followed after a moment. "No, thank  _ you _ ," Hermione corrected him. "I never thought I'd be able to do ...  _ this, _ with anyone. You showed me how wonderful it can be, when you're with someone you ... when you're with someone you care a great deal about." Hermione finished by tugging lightly at a few strands of her hair, looking down. While she had told him that he didn't have to tell her that he loved her, she still felt awkward that he hadn't said it back - especially considering when she'd said it.

"This was the first time I shared that with someone I … also care a great deal about," Severus confessed, turning his head to look over at her.

Hermione met his eyes hopefully.

Severus wet his lips with a quick swipe of his tongue, opening his mouth to add a final sentiment, but no words came out. He closed it again, clearing his throat. "I want to say it," he told her after a long moment, looking towards the foot of the bed so that he wouldn't have to meet her eyes. "I want to ... give myself to you, completely. But ..."

"You're afraid of being hurt," Hermione finished for him, knowing exactly how he felt. "You're afraid that if you say it, then this will be real, and it will hurt all the more when it ends. Like it did with your parents?"

Severus nodded shortly, staring straight ahead.

"Well, I challenge that hypothesis," Hermione informed him, jutting out her chin defiantly and bringing a hand to his cheek, rolling herself atop his chest and making him look at her. "Instead of assuming the worst will happen,  _ make _ the best happen. I don't expect a happily ever after where we ride off into the sunset, and nothing will ever go wrong," she stated. "That would be unbearably dull, and quite frankly, horrendously out of character."

Severus's eyebrow quirked lightly at that, tipping his head in silent agreement.

"Instead of worrying after what will end this, think of all the wonderful things that could happen if this were to last," Hermione continued. "I've never met anyone quite like you, Severus Snape, and I will be quite content to never need to look further than I am looking right now," she insisted, staring pointedly into his eyes. "I’m not going anywhere. I want to be with you ... always."

Severus lowered his gaze, his eyes falling briefly over his sheet clutched to her chest with the hand that wasn't holding his face. He pursed his lips before admitting, "I wouldn't detest that."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, leaning forward to capture his lips in a brief kiss. "Is that the best you can do? You, oh terrifying, wicked, evil bat of the dungeons?"

Severus brought his head up sharply at her words, searching her gaze. He saw the teasing tone within her eyes, but also saw the light trace of a challenge.

Quicker than she could have anticipated, Severus rolled them over, tugging her down the mattress until her head rested on the pillow again. His hands gripped her wrists - softly, so as not to actually imprison her - above her head, his gaze keeping her frozen in place. "I would quite enjoy spending the rest of my life doing this with you, my clever little witch," he spoke in a silky drawl before stealing a kiss from her lips.

A smile had formed on Hermione's lips before the kiss was through, her happiness seeping off of her in waves.

A few minutes passed before they pulled apart, slightly breathless. Severus took in the sight of her; sprawled on his bed underneath him, her hair flared out around her on his pillow, her lips pleasantly puffy, her eyes hazy with lust and unmistakable love. Before his brain could intervene and snap his defensive barriers up, three eternal words slipped from his lips, coming through as music to Hermione's delicate ears. "I love you."

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue left, which will hopefully be posted in the next few days. 
> 
> Thank you for sharing this journey with me, and our favorite characters. It only took them 27 chapters and 10 months of matchmaking from Samantha, Ginny, and Remus, but they finally got there. 
> 
> What else might be in store for them? Time will tell …
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments.
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama

**Author's Note:**

> So I basically completely disregarded all of the important deaths in the Battle of Hogwarts. And apparently the Order of the Phoenix ... But, that's why it's called AU.
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments, and for those interested in celebrating fanfics in a group-discussion format, feel free to join Fanfic Book Club: https://www.facebook.com/groups/217134689957048
> 
> Peace and good things
> 
> CoppersMama


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